“Those blankets for me?” he asked instead, since his wet hair seemed to be sucking what little warmth he had out through the top of his head without his cloak.
“Yeah,” Daks replied, crossing the space between them and moving to one of the small stalls made of rough-cut boards beyond. “They said we could put down as much straw as we want to sleep on.”
As Ravi watched him pull a knife from somewhere inside his clothes and cut the ties binding a bale together, his words sank in and Ravi frowned. “We?”
Daks just kept working. He lifted another bale into the stall and cut it open, before raking the hay into two sizable, oval mounds.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Ravi said finally, but Daks merely grunted.
“I should be safe enough on my own,” he tried again.
“Mmhmm.”
Ravi had to stifle a yawn even as he narrowed his eyes. He shouldn’t have eaten so much.
Daks shook out one of the cloth bundles and laid the blanket over one pile of straw before doing the same for the other, while Ravi continued to fidget. Daks would be warmer, more comfortable, and probably happier inside with the others.
“Put this on,” Daks said, shoving another bundle at him. “Have you decided about your clothes?”
Fighting another yawn, Ravi shrugged and looked away, embarrassed. “I guess it’s okay if they want to see what they can do with them,” he muttered reluctantly.
With another vaguely affirmative grunt, Daks collected the pile of clothing Ravi had taken off, rolled it up, and tucked it under an arm before turning to leave. “I’ll be back with something hot to drink and some more food,” he called over his shoulder as the darkness beyond the lamplight swallowed him.
Ravi stared after him for several moments, worrying his lower lip before he finally looked down at the bundle of cloth he held. The heavy greenish-brown wool turned out to be a cloak. Like the other borrowed clothes, it wasn’t new, but it was comfortingly thick and free of holes, stains, or patches. He slung it over his shoulders, pulled up the hood, and nestled into it with a happy sigh. For tonight at least, he’d be warm. And the deep hood made him feel safe from prying eyes, even if a part of him had actually enjoyed the way Daks had been looking at him.
By the time Daks returned with two steaming clay mugs, Ravi had already buried himself beneath the heavy blankets on one pile of straw, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. He propped himself on an elbow and accepted the mug he was offered with a muffled “Thank you,” before sipping at the herbal mixture heavily sweetened with honey. He let out another happy sigh at the warmth seeping into his hands as he watched Daks settle into the other makeshift bed over the rim of his mug. The tea was helping to revive him a little, but the need for sleep still weighed heavily on his eyelids. The longer the silence between them stretched, the more Ravi squirmed inside his cocoon.
“Do you think it’s safe for me to sleep here, this close to town?” he finally asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.
“I think you need sleep. We all do.”
Ravi studied Daks’s face from the concealment of his hood as his full belly, soft bed, and honeyed tea made him a little dreamy-eyed. The man wasn’t exactly unattractive. The warm, flickering light from the oil lamp smoothed some of the harsher edges of his face and softened his roguish appearance. Now that someone had finally taken a brush to his unruly mane, Ravi wondered how soft it would feel under his fingers.
He clenched the mug tighter in his hands. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What if I Dream? Will they know? Will I lead them to us?”
“Have you had a Dream since we left the city?”
“Other than what you two told me about, I don’t think so.”
Daks waved a hand. “I don’t think that was a Dream either. I think that was the beginnings of another Vision—though I can’t explain how it happened while you were drugged or why it cut off so abruptly. That was a new one for me, I’ll admit. But I didn’t sense anything while you were asleep by the Matna, so I think it’s safe to risk it now. You can’t go on without sleep.”
“And you can sense things they can’t?”
It irritated him a great deal that he knew so little about magic. His entire family line, going back generations, prided themselves on the acquisition and dissemination of knowledge, and yet he was completely ignorant of something so huge.
“I can,” Daks replied simply, annoyingly.
“But that brother in Rassat could sense what you did.”
“He was a Sensitive, like me, not a pain priest. I don’t think his gift is as strong as mine either. It took him longer to find you, and he probably lived in the same city as you for years.”
Ravi could almost see Daks’s chest expanding with each word, and he smothered a smile against the lip of his mug.
“The members of the Thirty-Six are different,” Daks continued without prompting. “I’ve never heard of a pain priest being a Finder as well. They are two different gifts. The priests would most likely be able to sense you if you were actively using your gift within close proximity of them. And possibly out this far, if you have another prophecy surge like the night we met—though they’d probably have no idea what it was. But anything other than that, they shouldn’t be able to sense from this distance. If anything that big happens, I’ll definitely feel it, and we’ll have time to get away before they find us out here. Vasin can say he scared some vagrants out of his barn. Now stop worrying and go to sleep. Get what rest you can, while you can, or we’ll have to strap you to the saddle with the rest of the baggage when we head out again.”
Daks smirked as he said it and shot him a wry sideways glance. Ravi scowled, even if the man couldn’t see it. “I can keep up with the rest of you.”
“Good. Now get some sleep.”
Daks rolled away from him and snuffed the oil lamp. Ravi’s tea had cooled enough for him to drain the mug without burning his tongue. He upended it, savoring the last few honeyed drops before setting it aside and burrowing deeper beneath his blankets. Their breathing, the wind, and soft night noises beyond the barn were the only sounds to break the silence until Ravi summoned the courage to ask what he’d been too afraid to in the bright light of day.
“They’ll know how to help me at the Scholomagi, right?” he whispered into the darkness, half hoping Daks was already asleep.
“Yes,” Daks replied nearly as quietly. After a few moments, Ravi heard the rustle of straw as Daks shifted onto his back and sighed. “They’ll help. I can’t guarantee they’ll be able to give you complete control. Sight is a tricky gift to have, because it’s almost as receptive in nature as being a Sensitive, only I think you’re channeling instead of absorbing. I can’t really explain it better than that. I’m no teacher or scholar.”
Ravi took a few moments to digest that. It wasn’t as if he’d been expecting a miracle to happen once he reached Samebar, but he wished Daks had sounded more definite.
“You’ll have a place at the Scholomagi, though,” Daks continued, as if sensing his unease. “The Seers have their own tower and are quite well taken care of. You won’t have to be afraid of having Visions anymore. They won’t hurt you in Samebar for being gifted, for being different. No one will take you away or force you to do anything you don’t want. You don’t even have to stay in Scholoveld, if you don’t want to. Your gift isn’t the kind that could prove dangerous without training, so there are no laws to make you.”
“But there are for others?” There were so many things he didn’t know.
“For some, but only if the gift is deemed dangerous. Then you’re required to go for training to protect the innocent and ungifted from harm.”
“Okay,” Ravi murmured as a hundred more questions bloomed in his mind.
“It will be different,” Daks said around a yawn. “There are laws that govern the gifted, and some of them don’t always seem fair. But you have my word you will be far safer than you are here. Shura and I have helped dozen
s of gifted to better lives in Samebar. You’ll see.”
“Why?”
The question escaped him before he could grab it back, and he winced. The last thing he wanted was to have Daks questioning why he was risking so much for a perfect stranger.
Idiot.
“Why what?” Daks asked.
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“Go to sleep. You can ask me whatever you want in the morning.”
RAVI STRUGGLED to free himself from the last vestiges of his Dream as he lay panting in his woolen cocoon. Opening his eyes, he clung to the weak indigo of predawn outside the barn like a lifeline, dragging himself free of the sea of muddy gray-brown still trying to drag him into darkness. The Dream had been the same as his Vision on the road, a terrifying gray wall, but different. This time a stranger had been with him in the miasma, calling out something in Sambaran, as lost and afraid as he was.
He shook his head and sat up, dislodging the blankets from his shoulders, welcoming the shock of cold air on his skin to bring him fully awake. Even as the last clinging cobwebs of the Dream fell away, his heart began to pound for a different reason—fear of discovery.
Had that been a Vision? Could a brother be on his way to the farm even now?
His gaze locked on Daks’s sleeping form as he tried to control his breathing. The man appeared to still be asleep, oblivious to anything wrong. Should he take that as a sign his Dream hadn’t been that “loud” and he was panicking for nothing, or that Daks was just a sound sleeper?
As he stared at the man, his pulse and breathing slowed. He couldn’t fathom why, but Daks’s mere presence had a calming effect on him. It made no sense. The man was infuriating and as impulsive as a toddler in a sweets shop. But Ravi could feel the tension leaching from his shoulders and chest as the seconds ticked past and Daks’s chest rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm. He looked warm and solid, close enough Ravi could touch him if he just reached out.
What kind of lover would Daks be? How would those big, hard hands feel on Ravi’s skin? Would all that infuriating bravado and overconfidence translate to something dominant and hot between the bed linens?
Ravi’s body tingled as memories of that other Vision flooded his mind, pictures of himself naked on his back, looking up at an equally naked Daks hovering over him, his cocky smile gentled somehow, his dark blue eyes filled with tenderness.
Ravi threw his blankets off the rest of the way and climbed to his feet before stomping out of the barn to relieve himself. The thought of lying with that man was utterly ridiculous, a pathetic fantasy because he was lonely and scared. Vision or no Vision, he’d prove to the gods he was the master of his own fate. Besides, he’d have plenty of better options to choose from once he reached Samebar. He’d been propositioned enough on the streets of Arcadia to know he was at least moderately attractive to both men and women. He didn’t have to settle for a rogue and a lunatic, even if the memory of being pressed against that hard body made his stomach flutter and his skin flush with warmth. There would be plenty of other hard bodies in Samebar to choose from—hard bodies that weren’t attached to that irritating mouth.
Disrobing enough to relieve himself in the chill morning air helped cool any lingering heat. And by the time he returned to the barn, Daks was awake and sitting up, blinking groggily at him. His bushy hair had dried into an oddly misshapen halo about his head.
“What now?” Ravi asked crisply so he didn’t have to acknowledge that a sleepy Daks might just be a tiny bit endearing.
Daks grimaced and sighed as he pushed his blankets off and climbed to his feet. “Breakfast, I hope,” he answered, his voice still rough with sleep.
“And after? Did you even discuss a plan yet?”
“Yes, we ‘discussed a plan,’” he bit back, giving Ravi a grumpy glare. “Can I take a piss first before I lay it out for you, or do I need to hold it?”
He was moving toward the door to the barn as he spoke, so Ravi assumed he wasn’t expecting an answer.
A short time later, Daks poked his head through the door again and called, “I’m going to the house to see what’s on for breakfast and if they have any blessed caffe’. I’ll bring back what I find. Stay hidden, in case the farmworkers start showing up.”
He didn’t linger long enough for Ravi to give a reply, which was just as well. The promise of something hot to eat and drink was enough of a distraction, and Daks was obviously not a morning person.
Ravi moved to their makeshift beds and began shaking out and folding up the blankets. He collected their empty mugs and the oil lamp and set them near the opening of the barn before moving back to a straw bale in a shadowed corner to wait, wrapping his borrowed cloak tightly around him and pulling up the hood.
When Daks returned with a steaming mug and a bowl of some kind of porridge smothered in butter and dried fruits, any grumpiness on Ravi’s part was completely forgotten. He tried to go a little slower with this meal than the one last night, hoping to forgo the slight stomachache he’d experienced after gorging himself, but it was a challenge. Two hearty, delicious meals in a row, without having to worry if he was taking too much away from the little ones or feeling guilty for not sharing, was a luxury he hadn’t had in years.
A small lump of porridge dripped from his spoon onto the cloak and he winced, setting the bowl aside to wipe at the mess.
“Are my clothes ready?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t left a grease stain on the good wool.
“They’re packed,” Daks answered around a mouthful of porridge. “The family are filling our bags with supplies as we speak. They rose early so we could be on our way before the workers show up after morning bell.”
“Packed?” Ravi asked, momentarily forgetting the rest of his porridge.
“Yes. We’ve decided it’s too risky to attempt a crossing here. Not only could we run afoul of the brothers midcrossing, but questions will be asked of everyone in the village even if we aren’t caught. It’ll be safer for everyone if we go farther north.”
“You said that last time,” Ravi pointed out dryly as his chest tightened with worry.
Daks sighed and rested his bowl in his lap. “I know. According to Vasin, extra soldiers have been sent to villages all the way up the river, and any strangers are highly scrutinized. Our best bet is to swing away from the King’s Road and travel narrower byways through the marshes, avoiding towns and only returning to the Matna when we’re close to Traget. If all the rumors are true, which Vasin seems to think they are, and the Thirty-Six are afraid to go any closer to this supposed wizard and his band of barbarians and possible rogue brother up north, we shouldn’t have to worry about your Visions anymore. Plus, Traget is the largest town with the largest market beyond Rassat, so strangers coming and going shouldn’t catch anyone’s notice.”
“Traget?” Ravi asked, his voice cracking as the porridge curdled in his belly. “But that’s nearly to the Northern Mountains. We might as well cross the border on foot.”
“Not quite,” Daks replied, his stupid lips quirking in that smug way Ravi hated. “It’s only three days’ steady ride. Vasin has agreed to give us enough supplies for the journey, and he can spare us a mule to help carry the packs, or one of us, if it comes to it. He’s got a cousin in Traget who’ll get the beast and the horses back to him next time they run the merchant barges down the river, and we can get new horses once we reach Samebar.”
He seemed so pleased with this, Ravi could only stare at him for a few beats before he found his voice. “Three more days? In the boglands?” he all but whined.
“They’re not so bad as all that,” Daks replied, waving a dismissive hand. “The marshes are a little challenging, but not if we stick to the marked paths. Vasin is drawing up a map, and he says there aren’t many people traveling that way these days, since it’s planting season. Those who are moving away from the troubles in the North would take the King’s Road to the larger towns along the Matna, so we shouldn’t have to worry about running into anyone.
And if you have another Vision, there will be no one for miles to sense it. Win win.”
Why Ravi had allowed himself to think Daks was even moderately attractive for more than two seconds, he couldn’t quite fathom right now. But given that Ravi had only ever read about the boglands and the North of Rassa, he couldn’t exactly argue the man’s logic either, not effectively anyway. The distance had seemed a lot greater than three days’ travel on the maps in his grandfather’s study, and the swamps so much more ominous in some of the stories than Daks made them sound. But he had always wanted to see them, though definitely not under these circumstances.
“Can’t we try a few other villages upriver from here? Surely there has to be one where we can hire a boat to get across. There can’t be a pain priest in every town.”
Daks shook his head. “With the fuss we created in Urmat, and the villages being similarly flush with guard companies, the risk is too high. Shura and I aren’t familiar enough with this area to know who to approach, and Mistress Sabin isn’t either.”
“Surely this Vasin knows someone,” Ravi tried again, his hopes sinking.
“That he can get in contact with quickly? Who’d be willing to take the risk? No. This is the best, safest solution.”
Ravi sucked in a breath and swallowed any further protests. It was obvious they’d made up their minds without him. He didn’t relish another three days in the saddle, though. He wouldn’t be able to walk by the end of them.
“Finish your breakfast. We’ll be leaving soon,” Daks said curtly before digging into his own bowl again.
Ravi lifted his bowl and obediently shoveled the nearly cold porridge mechanically into his mouth, though it didn’t taste as delicious as it had only a few minutes ago.
“My clothes?” he asked when he’d swallowed the last of it.
“I told you. They’re packed. What you have on now will do better for the colder climate anyway.”
“These aren’t mine, though.”
The Seer Page 16
