by Kel Kade
He shrugged. “I guess that depends on how much trouble. Why?”
“You seem to be expecting it, and you’re running with thieves. Are you up to something illegal? Are you a smuggler? A grifter?”
“I’m just a forester. I’m going to the Council of Magi to request assistance. There are some who would prefer I didn’t.”
“Why would anyone deny assistance to a forester? No one wants the forests to die.”
He glanced at her, then turned his gaze to the never-ending prairie. “Some do.”
Teza narrowed her eyes at him. “Are we under attack by another kingdom? Are they trying to destroy our resources? That’s why the queen wanted to see you, isn’t it? You’re carrying a secret message because they don’t want to cause a panic.”
Aaslo scratched his scruffy jaw. “Something like that.”
“Why you?”
“She’s got you there.”
Aaslo stood and stuffed the remainder of his meal into his saddlebag. “I was the only one willing to take on the task.”
Teza did the same and mounted her donkey as she said, “That’s strange. Aren’t the soldiers and knights supposed to do that kind of thing?”
“She doesn’t think you’re up to the task.”
“Maybe I’m not, but it has to get done.” Once he was mounted, Aaslo turned in his saddle to look back at Teza. “Why are you so eager to go with me?”
“I’m not,” she said. “At first, I just needed to get out of Tyellí, especially since you got me fired. It turns out you’re headed toward my home, though.”
As Dolt began plodding down the road, Aaslo said, “You’re ready to face your family?” When she didn’t answer, he glanced back to find her lost in her own thoughts, and by her expression, they weren’t good.
On the fourth day, it started to rain. Aaslo had hoped that Teza’s presence would allow for a more enjoyable ride, since he’d have someone to talk with besides a severed head. She was unusual, which he found interesting. He had hoped Mathias would be quieter with her around, particularly if the voice was truly a manifestation of his own insanity. He had wondered if he only heard the voice out of guilt and the fact that he was alone outside the forest. Mathias was relentless, though. While Aaslo wanted only to forget the incessant drizzle that soaked him to the core, Mathias sang songs about it, most of them designed to implore the gods for more. He also told stories, all of them about tragedy and heartbreak, and most of them took place in the rainy or winter seasons.
Teza’s disdain for the weather was evident in her every word, and she had developed a sniffle. By the time they reached Yarding near the eastern border of Uyan, Aaslo decided they needed a respite.
Yarding was one of the largest cities in Uyan. It was a major hub for trade, and its proximity to the Tisiguey River provided indirect access to the Endric Ocean. Merchant houses, countinghouses, banks, and legal offices lined the main road through the city. Aaslo glanced down the side roads as they progressed toward the city center. Craftsmen, smiths, carpenters, and the like occupied one road, while shops and merchant stalls of the affordable variety were available on the next. Beyond that were two streets of taverns, pubs, and inns. Aaslo stopped in front of the second inn after they turned onto a side street.
“We shouldn’t stay here,” said Teza.
Aaslo looked over at her. She was shivering, her lips held a slight blue tinge, and her nose was almost as red as her watery eyes. He said, “Why not?”
“This is the kind of place that charges too much for subpar rooms. It’s close to the main thoroughfare, and they use too much bright paint.”
“You have something against bright colors?”
She pointed to the patio cover that was leaking almost as much as the sky. “They use it to cover the rot.”
Aaslo looked at the building again with a more critical eye. It was difficult to be discerning when all he wanted was to get dry in front of a warm fire. The shutters hung awkwardly, nails stuck up from the floorboards on the steps and patio, and the front door didn’t completely close. “I see your point.”
As they rode, the buildings became progressively worse. Aaslo turned to Teza. “I think we should try to find a better part of town.” Teza nodded but said nothing. Aaslo thought she seemed sicker than she had the last time he had looked, only minutes before. Just as he tugged Dolt to turn around, a woman came running out of a doorway and up the steps from a sublevel.
“Please!” she screamed as she tugged at his pant leg. “Please help me! There’s a fire,” she said, pointing at the smoke that had just begun spewing from an open window.
“A damsel in distress! This is your chance to impress her.”
“Who?” said Aaslo.
The woman shook her head. “No, it’s not a person. It’s my home!”
Aaslo sniffed the air. He looked down at the woman and said, “You’d best go back inside and rid yourself of that brew before your whole house fills with smoke.” The woman’s pleading expression soured, and Aaslo led the pack mule back the way they had come. Teza was still staring at the woman as he passed.
“Now she thinks you’re a monster.”
“What does it matter?” he mumbled.
Teza sneezed. It wasn’t a dainty chirrup but a full-bodied call to the god of strength and power. She wiped her nose and said, “I’m surprised you caught that.” Pedestrians lurched out of the way to accommodate her donkey beside his horse in the narrow lane.
“Why?” he said.
“I didn’t think that you, being a recluse and all, would recognize a con like that.”
He said, “Who do you think invented the concoction she was using?”
“What do you mean?”
“We call it smoke oil. It doesn’t usually burn hot enough to catch fire to green wood, but as you saw, it creates a good amount of smoke. We use it to rid the trees of pests.”
“You’re boring her, Aaslo. Women don’t want to hear about bugs and smoke.”
“She’s smart, and she does,” Aaslo muttered. Then, to Teza, he said, “A woman might burn it in her house if it has an infestation, but that was obviously not the case.”
“You keep talking like that, and I might actually start to believe you’re a forester.”
Aaslo smirked. “I’m still not convinced you’re a mage.”
Teza sneezed again. “I’m not either right now.”
“She doesn’t look so good. If she dies, are you going to take her head too? It’d be nice to have company.”
“She’s not going to die,” Aaslo muttered.
“I might,” said Teza. Then she fell off her donkey.
Aaslo jumped from the saddle and lifted Teza’s head out of the mud. As he wiped her face, he realized she was burning with fever. People called for him to move the animals when the roadway became more congested. He tied the donkey’s reins to the pack mule and then hefted Teza into the saddle. After securing her to the creature’s back, he stopped to ask a city guard where he could find decent lodging. He then led the beasts by foot toward the nicer side of the city. The rain started falling harder as he reached the porch of an inn with a blue door. He doubted there was more than one inn with a blue door, unless it was the fashion in Yarding. He figured the guard would have described it differently if that had been the case.
Two young women emerged from a gate beneath an overhang to one side of the inn. The two looked to be of the same age, and they were strikingly similar in appearance. Although they were feminine, both were dressed in men’s clothing and had their hair stuffed beneath brimmed caps.
The first said, “Greetings, sir. I’m Dia—”
“—and I’m Mia,” said the second.
“Welcome to the Silver Sky Inn,” said Dia.
“Would you like a room?” said Mia.
“They’re pleasantly accommodated—”
“—and clean.”
“We have space in the stable—”
“—and hot baths are readily availabl
e.”
Aaslo’s gaze bounced between the two as they finished each other’s sentences. Finally, he said, “How much?”
“You’ll have to take that up—”
“—with the mistress, sir.”
Dia nodded toward the silhouette of a woman standing in the doorway where the blue door stood open. Aaslo handed the reins to one of the young women, knowing he would never be able to tell the two apart, and untied the unconscious Teza. At their concerned expressions, he said, “She’s sick.” Then he turned and carried Teza up the steps to the porch, stomping his feet to remove as much of the mud as possible and eliciting a nod of approval from the mistress.
“Greetings, Mistress,” he said. “I bring shade in my heart.”
“Just talk normal, Aaslo. No one speaks forester.”
The portly woman pushed her spectacles to the bridge of her nose as her head turned upward to look at him. Her curious grey eyes stood out over rosy cheeks, and her silver-streaked auburn hair glimmered in the warm light from the inn. She said, “Good afternoon, sir. I’m Mistress Nova. I’ve never heard such a greeting. I’m afraid I do not know the proper response.”
Aaslo glanced past her to the warm, dry common room. He said, “If you are offering hospitality, you might say, ‘I have cool water to lift your spirits.’”
The woman tilted her head toward the street. “Seems a bit redundant on a day such as this.”
“She has you there.”
Aaslo granted the woman a rare smile. “A keen observation. Perhaps an invitation to your hearth, then?”
The woman smirked, then said, “We have hospitality aplenty, but it’ll cost you. This is a business, after all.” She paused to survey the unconscious woman in Aaslo’s arms. “She is unwell?”
He briefly wondered if Mistress Nova would put them out if she learned Teza was sick, then decided they’d be best served by the truth. “We’ve been riding in the rain for some time. She’s taken ill.”
The woman brazenly stepped forward and placed a palm on Aaslo’s forehead. “You seem well enough.”
He said, “I’m used to working in all kinds of weather. She is not.”
“Very well. Bring her inside where it’s dry, and we’ll discuss the price.” As they walked through the entryway toward the front desk, the woman said, “Normally we wouldn’t have any rooms on such short notice, but travelers are often delayed by the rain. Now we’re just hoping to fill the empty rooms before curfew. How long will you be staying?”
“Curfew? Why do they have curfew?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered toward the floor. He looked back at Mistress Nova. “We had originally planned for one night. Now it seems we’ll have to wait until she’s well enough to travel.”
“I should say so. Shall I send for the apothecary?”
Aaslo looked down at Teza’s flushed face and damp brow. By the amount of heat radiating off of her, he knew not all of the moisture on her skin was due to the rain. He said, “Yes, that would be ideal.”
Mistress Nova held out a key on a chain that dangled from a wooden figure of a purple horse. “Take her on up, then.” She motioned toward the stairs on the far side of the common room. “The door to your room is painted with the image of a purple horse.”
Aaslo shifted Teza so that he could take the key. “The cost?”
Nova made a shooing motion with her hands. “You get her dry and settled in a warm bed, and we’ll discuss that later. I need to send for the apothecary before he closes shop. The girls’ll be up shortly with your things.”
As he turned toward the stairwell, a man and a woman walked through the door.
“Look, it’s some of our new friends.”
Aaslo’s shoulders tensed, and he clenched his jaw upon noticing that the man wore the same strange white and black attire that the foreigner named Verus had worn. The woman’s was similar in style but all black. Both wore their hair long and straight. Where the man wore a sword at one hip, the woman carried a baton with a brilliant red gemstone the size of a walnut atop it. Most remarkable, though, was the fact that both were completely dry.
They gazed into the common room like foxes in a henhouse. The woman drummed her pointed, black-lacquered nails on her baton, then turned to the man with a sour look. They muttered to each other in a foreign tongue, and by the heated tone, it seemed they were arguing.
Aaslo met Mistress Nova’s gaze with a warning and shook his head. Then he turned toward the stairs. As he crossed the nearly empty common room, he heard her politely inform the newcomers that all of their rooms were occupied. The foreign woman had the nerve to suggest the mistress ask the other patrons if they would be willing to part with their accommodations in exchange for a fee. When Mistress Nova rejected the proposal and sent them on their way, Aaslo was relieved. Still, he was disturbed that the foreigners already had a presence in the farthest reaches of Uyan.
He carried Teza up the stairs to the room, which he found to be quaint but clean, and he was glad that it had two beds, even if they were fairly small. He laid Teza on the floor so as not to wet the bed, then stood back and stared at her. He muttered, “What am I to do now?”
“She’s sick. Help her.”
“She needs dry clothes.”
“Just take the wet ones off and put her in the bed.”
“I should remove her clothes?”
Aaslo jumped at a knock at the door. Glad to put off making a decision, he pulled it open. Mistress Nova stood there with her fists on her hips. She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Now why am I turning away paying customers?” Then she noticed Teza on the floor and swept past him with indignation. “Why would you leave the young woman on the floor sopping wet?”
“I didn’t want to get the bed wet, and I was still considering how to change her without causing offense.”
Mistress Nova pursed her lips. “You two are not together? Well, no, it wouldn’t be appropriate, and I appreciate that you’re not the kind of man to take advantage. I’ve already sent for the apothecary.” She waved toward the changing screen in the corner. “You get changed and then go on down to the common room to get some food. I’ll take care of her.”
Before Aaslo could respond, the twins tromped into the room lugging his and Teza’s belongings. He thanked them and then riffled through his pack to retrieve a change of clothes. Nothing was particularly fresh, but he kept the pack well-oiled, so its contents were mostly dry. When he stepped from behind the screen, Mistress Nova wrinkled her nose and said, “I see we need to have your clothes laundered as well.”
“Seriously. You smell worse than a corpse.”
“How would you know?” he grumbled.
“My nose is one of the few body parts I still possess.”
“I’m not blind,” said Mistress Nova.
Aaslo glanced down at himself and nodded. “Yes, I see your point.”
“All right,” she said. “Just pile everything by the door, and one of the girls’ll fetch it while you’re gone. I’ll see to this one’s things. It’d be best if I know her name in case she wakes.”
“Teza,” he said. “And she’s a bit temperamental, so if she does wake, you might want to stand back.”
“Thanks for the warning,” the woman said as she began unbuttoning Teza’s overcoat.
Aaslo tromped down the stairs to the common room. He had most of the tables to choose from, so he claimed the one nearest the hearth. A couple of ladies and their gentlemen escorts were chatting animatedly at a table in the corner nearest him. Another table was occupied by an older gentleman with an oiled mustache wearing an ornate coat and a golden scarf tied into a giant bow that flopped over his chest. The man glanced his way, and Aaslo quickly averted his gaze lest the man mistake his observations for an invitation to converse. One of the twins passed by his table, dropping a plate and mug in front of him without pausing for questions or requests.
“She probably doesn’t want to smell you for longer than she must.”
&nbs
p; “Food smells good,” Aaslo mumbled.
It looked good, too, so he ate it without complaint. He knew he should employ the dining etiquette taught to him by Magdelay, but he was hungry and tired, so he inhaled it. After finishing, he sat wondering how long he should wait until he returned to his room. Although he didn’t make a habit of eavesdropping, the conversation of the group sitting near him became louder and heated.
A brunette woman in a dark grey dinner gown had the kind of voice that grated on a person’s ears and carried to fill the room. “I am quite dissatisfied with Antilius, our new wizard. I know he is young, but he cannot seem to do the simplest tasks. Why, the other day, I requested he retrieve a case of mountainberry wine from the north, and he failed to even operate the evergate!”
The bearded gentleman seated next to the second woman said, “That is strange. Just yesterday, our sorcerer could not get the third evergate in the southwest to respond. Perhaps they are temporarily out of service for repairs?”
The brunette huffed. “Well, if that is the case, I suppose I should not have been so hard on Antilius. I do hope the matter will be resolved swiftly.”
“I am sure it is of the utmost priority,” said the second woman, whose auburn hair matched her dress. In a moderating tone, she said, “The magi understand the importance of the evergates. If not for them, we would wait weeks or months for news and goods.”
“They should build more,” said the brunette. “Even with a reservation, the queue in Tyellí is sometimes hours long.”
“I think they do it on purpose,” said the blond gentleman next to her. “They keep the demand high, so they can charge more and keep us dependent on their services.”
“I am sure that is not the case,” said the auburn-haired woman. “I doubt they are so simple to construct. Besides, we would still be dependent on their services since none of us could hope to operate one.”
“Which is also part of their plan,” said the blond man. “They could find a way for seculars to operate the evergates, but the magi keep the gates to themselves to retain power over us.”
