by R. T. Kaelin
“True, but were it not for me, you would have never gotten shot.”
Rhohn cocked his eyebrow.
“True.”
Tiliah moved closer to him, saying, “And that is why I am thanking you. Without you, I’d still be with Nimar and his awful family.” She paused a moment. “Or not. Truthfully, I don’t know where I would be. But it certainly would not be here, with Zecus, with my family.”
A shadow passed over Rhohn’s face.
“I am only sorry your father could—”
Interrupting him, she said, “Don’t want to talk about it, Mud Man.” After sharing her father’s fate with her mother, Tiliah refused to speak of it. It was easier that way.
Closing his mouth, Rhohn nodded.
“I understand.”
Tiliah shook her head and, in a sharper tone than he deserved, said, “I doubt it.”
Dropping his chin to his chest, he said, “The pain digs at your insides, yes? Like someone is trying to scoop out your heart with a rusty, jagged shovel.”
She remained quiet, struggling to keep her anguish at bay. She had not shed a tear in days and was not going to do so now.
Rhohn glanced up, took one look at her face, and said, “I was eight when my mother died and—” he pointed to his scars “—this happened. Losing her hurt thrice as much as the burns. Then my father passed to Maeana and…I…” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing, his scarred lips twitching. He drew in a deep breath, held it a moment, and then exhaled. “The pain never goes away, Tiliah. Just hope that it grows a bit duller with time.” He offered a tiny, sad smile. “A strong soul accepts that and lives with it. And you, Tiliah Alsher, are a strong soul.”
She felt the tears swelling and tried to hold them back.
Rhohn muttered, “I am sorry this was your family’s fate. For you, of course, but for me as well. I wanted to meet the man who raised such a remarkable young woman.”
Reaching up to wipe the wetness from her eyes, she murmured, “Blast you, Rhohn.”
“So I’m Rhohn now?” asked the soldier, a teasing note in his voice. “What happened to ‘Mud Man?’”
A quiet huff of a chuckle pushed past her tears as she stared at him. All of him. His mismatched and burnt skin, his scarred lips, the missing eyebrow and ear, his patchy hair. Most women would be repulsed by his disfigured face. Tiliah was not one of them.
Stepping forward, she stood on her toes and leaned close to Rhohn, brushing her soft, full lips against his cracked and maimed ones, reaching up with her hand to caress his scarred cheek. She held the kiss for a few heartbeats, breathing in his scent, before pulling away just far enough to meet his wide-eyed stare.
“Thank you, Rhohn Lurus of the village Dashti. Thank you for everything.”
He stared at her and blinked twice, remaining completely silent.
Smiling, she leaned in again, gave him a second kiss, a quicker one this time, and then pulled back, dropping her heels to the ground. She patted his chest twice and said, “Take care of yourself here, Mud Man. We’re going to need help in the Southlands when this is all over. I was hoping you might be interested.”
A slight smile started to spread over his lips but arrested as his gaze flicked past her. The happy glint in his eye fled in an instant. Turning around, Tiliah spotted Zecus several dozen paces away, marching straight toward therm. She would not say he looked angry, but he certainly was not smiling.
Glancing back to a visibly worried Rhohn, she smiled.
“What? You’ll stand face to face with a kur-surus, yet you are afraid of my brother?”
Rhohn, his gaze remaining locked on Zecus, muttered, “I did not just kiss a kur-surus’ sister.”
“To be clear, I kissed you.”
He glanced down at her and smiled.
“I suppose you did.”
Arriving a moment later, Zecus immediately announced, “Tiliah, time to go back to the port.”
While the protective tone in his voice was predictable, it nonetheless prompted a quiet chuckle to slip from Tiliah. Turning to face Zecus, she gave him a dazzling smile.
“Whatever you say. I said what needed to be said.”
As she strode toward him, she was amused to see him keep his gaze locked on Rhohn. Tiliah glanced over her shoulder to find Rhohn staring at her alone. She gave him one last smile and turned to Zecus, hooking her arm in his and gently tugging him back to the yard’s entrance.
“Time to go, brother.”
Zecus went with her reluctantly, backpedalling a few paces before turning and walking at her side. After a dozen steps, he looked over and murmured, “You said you just wanted to talk with him.”
Tiliah nodded.
“I did talk with him.”
“I would think it easier to talk when your lips are not pressed against his.”
“Oh, please,” murmured Tiliah. “I’m older than Kenders is and you kissed her.”
Zecus was quiet a moment before responding in a quiet, reserved voice.
“I was unaware you knew that.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Tiliah faced forward and said, “We sat around for a day, waiting for you. It was bound to come out.”
As they neared the stonework water trough, Zecus glanced over.
“Is he a good man?”
“A very good one.”
Nodding once, Zecus announced, “Then I approve.”
Tiliah eyed her brother, a wide grin spreading over her face.
“That’s sweet. You think you have a say in the matter.”
“I thought I did. But then I saw you kiss him.” He glanced over, an amused smile of his own on his lips and asked, “The poor soul had no chance, did he?”
Tiliah extended her left arm, reached around her brother, and hugged him tight as they walked.
“No, Zecus. He did not.”
She glanced over her shoulder and found Rhohn still beside the wall, staring at her. She smiled wide, very glad that she had come.
Chapter 51: Eveningmeal
21st of the Turn of Maeana, 4999
A steady breeze drifted over the barren mountainside, tickling the short stalks of dead thistlegrass and whistling through crevices in the gray rocks and boulders. Heavy, dark clouds cluttered the sky, hugging the mountaintops, the air so thick with moisture that a wet sheen covered every bit of exposed stone. Patches of weeks-old snow and dirty ice spotted the rocky ground.
Tobias drew in a long, deep breath and upon finding it devoid of scent, looked down to his right leg. Straight and healthy. He let a tiny sigh escape.
“And where am I now?”
The clouds completely obscured the peak of the mountain upon which he stood. The crags of some other mountains were visible, however, spread out below him and stretching clear to the horizon. Staring up at the sky, he searched for some hint of the sun, but the clouds were too thick. He had no idea the time of day or which direction was north, east, south, or west.
“Wondrous.”
Spinning in a slow circle, he studied the empty, rocky landscape around him, looking for the reason he was here. There had to be a reason. There always was.
Spotting a tall, narrow cave opening a few hundred feet away in the side of the mountain, he stopped turning and stared. A thin stream of gray smoke curled out, quickly whisked away by the wind.
“Where there’s smoke…”
Tobias scrambled over the mountainside, reaching the cave’s mouth in short order, and hurried straight into its dark, jagged fissure. Once inside, the cave narrowed and the floor sloped downward. A smoky haze filled the passageway, but Tobias could not smell it.
Following the path into the dark, he turned a corner and stepped into a large cavern. A tiny campfire burned against the far wall, its paltry light providing just enough illumination for Tobias to make out the cave’s interior. A number of squat, bulbous pottery jars were arranged neatly about the cave along with stacks of parchments. Sitting amongst them was an incredibly thin figure, resting cross-legged on a simple mat.
As Tobias stared, the individual turned her head ever so slightly, the right side of her face moving from shadow to light. Her eyes were closed.
Tobias gasped, “Bless the Gods.” He immediately stepped further into the cave to get a closer look. “Gods, Larin, is that truly you?”
A moment later, he frowned at his foolishness. Larin could not hear him. Nobody could within his visions. Nevertheless, the aicenai’s thin eyelids shot open and Larin’s gaze darted about the room, her blue eyes glinting with reflected firelight.
“How is it you found me?”
Tobias was stunned silent. This had never happened in any of his visions. Ever.
Before he could overcome his surprise and respond, the aicenai dipped her chin to her chest and sighed.
“And now I must move again.”
Finding his voice, Tobias asked, “Larin, what are—”
“I am growing ever weary of this chase,” whispered Larin as she stood, her robes draping over her thin frame. “Come if you like, but I will be gone by the time you find this cave.” She moved to the stacks of parchments and began leafing through them.
Tobias stared at the aicenai, befuddled.
Larin selected some large sheets, set them aside, and then began feeding the rest to the fire. Dry and crisp with age, they caught immediately, sending large plumes of smoke to the roof and out the entryway. Without pausing in her task, Larin stared about the empty cave.
“One of these days I will learn how it is you can track it. From what I can tell, it should not be possible.”
“What are you talking about?” asked the tomble. “It’s me. Tobias.”
She ignored him entirely now. Her behavior made no sense until Tobias realized the aicenai must think he was someone else. Such a revelation was cause for concern. Someone was pursuing Larin and Tobias had a good idea why.
When Khin had shared the true story of the Locking with him after finding the Suštinata of Void, Tobias had been stunned twice over. The first when he learned of the existence of the stones, and a second time when he discovered that Larin, the aicenai with whom he had spent years in Cartu, had been among The Twice Nine tasked to study them.
Frowning, Tobias stared about the cave, wishing there was some way to communicate with the aicenai but knowing from experience there was not. Larin moved through the cave, gathering various items, rolling and binding some parchments but burning most of them. Tobias tried to read what they said, but they were all written in ancient aicenai. He considered going back outside to get an idea where they were, but that would not help if Larin was planning to leave. Dejected and frustrated, he sat on the cave floor and simply watched the aicenai pack.
“Blast it.”
Larin padded softly across the rock floor, heading to a ledge where a black cube rested, alone from everything else. She lifted the box, turned, and held motionless, tilting her head side to side as if straining to hear the faintest of sounds.
“You are still here, are you not?” whispered the aicenai. “I can sense you.”
“I am,” muttered Tobias, standing from the floor. “Not that it matters.” He advanced on her, eyeing the box she held near her waist. As he neared, Larin opened the lid, swinging it back on a pair of hinges to reveal a gold-inlayed interior. An impossibly bright yellowish-white light flooded the cave, forcing Tobias to squint against its brilliance. An intense sizzling sound filled the cavern.
A moment later, a dazzling yellow stone rose from the box and hung in the air where it hissed and spit. Tiny arcs of lightning leapt from the stone’s surface, into the air, and back again, popping and cracking. Tobias tried to get a closer look at the stone, but could only glance at its brilliance for a second before needing to look away. It was as if he was trying to stare at the sun.
Tobias finally understood the reason for the burns along the back of Larin’s hands and wrists. When he had asked Larin about the scars, the aicenai had simply said that she was a careless cook.
Larin’s thin and airy voice managed to rise above the crackling. “Savor this moment.” The Suštinata fell back into the box and Larin snapped the lid shut with a crack, plunging the cave into darkness again. “As long as I live, you will never find me or the stone.”
Tobias stared up to Larin and realized that the cavern seemed much dimmer than before she had shown him the Suštinata. At first, he thought it was because the stone had temporarily blinded him, but then he realized he could see through the box and Larin both.
The vision was ending.
“Blast you, Nelnora.”
* * *
The scent of cloves, melted beeswax, and burning smoking-leaf filled his nose. He was still sitting in his chair, but was slumped over to his right with someone’s arm draped around his shoulders. Considering the seating arrangement at the duke’s table, Tobias guessed he had fallen into Kenders.
The young woman confirmed his suspicions, asking, “Perhaps we should lay him down somewhere?”
“That won’t be necessary,” muttered Tobias with a touch of embarrassment. “I’m back.”
Opening his eyes, he found everyone staring at him. Directly across from him, Broedi and Nikalys sat, peering over the candles’ flickering flames. Broedi held his long, white bone pipe in his hand, a wispy curl of smoke drifting from its bowl while Nikalys clasped a wine goblet. Both wore expressions of curious concern. A few paces behind them stood the kur-surus, Okollu. The Sudashian refused to sit at the table.
Turning to his to right, Tobias found Duchess Aleece watching him, an inquisitive glint in her eye. At the other end of the table to his left, Duke Rholeb was peering at him, a wary, almost suspicious expression upon his face.
Kenders said, “You sort of fell over into me a little while ago.”
“That happens sometimes. Thank you for not letting me fall.”
Sitting tall, Tobias stretched out a hand, grabbed his cup of sweet redbush tea, and took a long drink.
Broedi rumbled, “You were not gone very long.”
After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Tobias placed the pottery cup back on the tabletop, looked through the numerous candles at Broedi, and said, “It was a short trip, wasn’t it?”
Duchess Aleece asked, “By chance, did you see the Sudashians?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
Duke Rholeb cursed quietly, “Blast it.” He reached up and ran his hand over his silver beard. Eyeing Tobias with caution, he asked, “And there is nothing you can do to…ah…control that…ability?” His unease talking about magic was clear.
Tobias stared at the longleg and, with years of exasperation twisting his voice, answered, “Trust me, my Lord, I’ve tried.”
Duke Rholeb held up a hand.
“I did not mean to offend.”
“And you did not,” said Tobias. “My frustration is my own. I’ve been trying to control it for centuries. Your question is entirely appropriate. This is all quite new to you.”
The Duke of the Marshlands glanced around the table at the assembled group, his eyes lingering on Okollu.
“Yes…yes, it is.”
Tobias was impressed by how well the duke had assimilated to the drastic changes in his reality. When they had arrived at his hall two days past after riding into the city under heavy cloak and Duchess Aleece gave a cursory explanation of things, the longleg had the keen foresight to recognize that she and the Shadow Manes were his one chance to protect his lands and people. On the spot, in the middle of the reception yard, Duke Rholeb suspended the decree outlawing magic and granted permission for the Manes to enter Demetus.
“So, Tobias,” rumbled Broedi. “What did you see, then? Anything relevant?”
Tobias cocked an eyebrow.
“You could say that.”
Turning in his seat, he peeked around his high-backed chair and looked at Khin. The aicenai stood before the middle of three tall, arched windows, staring at the city below. The last vestiges of daylight sparkled through panes of colored glass, casting green
, blue, and red light on Khin and the room. The lower half of the window was propped open, allowing a nice breeze to drift through the hall.
“Khin? You might want to come over here for this.”
The aicenai turned and stared, his face as impassive as always.
“Why?”
“Because I saw Larin.”
Moving quickly for an aicenai, Khin strode toward the table, stopping to stand between Kenders and the duchess.
“And is she well?”
“It seemed so.” Facing the others at the table, he added, “She still has the Suštinata of Charge.”
His announcement prompted a number of soft, surprised gasps.
Broedi pulled his pipe from his lips and asked, “Is it too much to hope that you know where she is?”
“In the mountains.”
“Where?” asked Duchess Aleece. “Which range?”
Sighing, Tobias shrugged his shoulders.
“I have no idea. Nor does it matter.”
“How does knowing the location of another stone not matter?” asked Nikalys.
“Because in short order, it won’t be there any longer.”
Tobias went on to share the full details of his vision, stressing the fact that while Larin had unexpectedly sensed his presence, she had thought Tobias to be someone else. When finished, he turned to Khin.
“Did anything like that ever happen to you in all your years studying your Suštinata?”
“It is not ‘my Suštinata,’” replied Khin. Before Tobias could clarify, the aicenai held up a bony hand. “I understand your question and the answer is no, I never sensed another’s presence.” His gaze drifted to where Okollu stood beside a table with two small chests sitting atop of it. “Knowing that Larin does is curious.”
Tobias peered across the dining table to eye the wooden chests. Before leaving Storm Island, Duchess Aleece ordered the blacksmith and woodworker in Claw to collaborate and craft a second box made to the aicenai’s specifications. After some spirited debate, the stones were brought to Demetus in their respective chests. The eventual consensus was that the sweeter of two sour choices was to have them here rather than unguarded at the enclave.
