“What in The Glens’ hells do I look like, a Kaipponese?”
He glanced at her dark waves. Well, yeah. Didn’t all Glaiddish have yellow hair? But he sensed he would lose his eyeballs if he asked her about it.
Instead, he said: “Does the sun exist in your Kingdom?”
The defensiveness blinked out of her eyes. “Yes. We have few storms where I’m from. But a lot of snow.”
“What does the sun look like?”
Eridene glanced back in the direction of their campfire. At first, he was sure she would shove him off.
She shuffled over to sit by him.
A thousand cicadas buzzed against his belly.
“I never really thought about it before.” She reached for the stone charm hanging around her neck, a seven-pointed star made of glittering blue gems. “The sun is . . . ” Pause. “True love.”
Jaime laughed. “Really?”
“I know it sounds stupid, okay?” she snapped. “But it’s always there for you, even if you don’t notice it. Sometimes, it hides behind squalls and blizzards. But there are the days when the skies are clear, and I’m walking along the snowbanks of the Eirewood, and Uncle has a letter from the House of Lords. He tells me we lost another sea town to the Kaipponese Emperor. And I start to believe the war will never end. And Toran will never get to go back to Kaippon to see his family.”
“How do you and Toran—”
“But then you feel it.” Eridene closed her eyes. “Winter’s daylight washing your face clean. The elwood leaves are limned in silver. And suddenly, you look up into the sun’s white light, and you know.”
“Know what?”
“Somehow, everything’s going to be okay.”
“You think . . . it’s going to be okay in Jaypes?”
She paused. “People come and go. They say they’ll be there for you, always—” The charm fell from her fingers. “But they aren’t. People lie. And die. The sun is always there, though.”
“I wish I could see it.” Jaime took a deep breath. “Sometimes I think I never will.”
“You’ll die before you ever see the sun.”
Hurt prickled his chest, but he quickly covered it with a mask of indifference. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I’ve been in Jaypes long enough to know you aren’t your father. You’re so much better than him.”
Then she stood up and marched away.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two days later, the morning after the winds led him to a river, Jaime woke to Lady Eridene’s screams.
He flipped himself upright.
No. The royal soldiers can’t have found us all the way out here.
His sandals bound across clusters of origanum till his feet smeared and he couldn’t remember when he started running.
Protect her, protect her, his senses screamed.
He made it to the riverbank, pulling to a halt, blood rushing in his ears.
“Get it away from me!” she shrieked.
A spindly ball crept out from under a rock. Gods, it was the size of a mountain kid. Spider. Nearly half the size of Jaime himself. Legs hairy and thick as a wolf’s paws. Eridene was backing away like a crab towards the water, screaming her innards out.
Despite the fear and disgust roiling through him, Jaime stepped between them.
“Don’t worry, I’ll kill it!”
He squeezed his sweaty palms together, racing to find The Empyrean with his mind. The winds started to pick up—
“No!”
Toran jumped in front of the living nightmare, the black in his eyes dilating wildly. “Empyrean hell do you think you’re doing?” he cried.
Jaime cried back, “I’m killing it!”
“What has it ever done to you?”
“Don’t be stupid! It’s gonna eat her!”
Eridene shrieked and shrieked as both boys bellowed at each other.
Gusts swirled around them. Just as Jaime was about to release a spear of air, Toran turned around.
“Come on, you,” he cooed.
The spider backed away, one crawl at a time. Toran bent over as if to pet it the hairs on its head.
“What are you doing?” Eridene screamed.
“Protecting it from both of you,” Toran said defensively. “It doesn’t deserve to die just ‘cos you don’t like it.” Then he chided the spider, “Shame on you for scaring them. Go back to your hole.”
It squealed, its fangs quivering furiously as it disappeared back under the ground.
Eridene cupped her mouth and bolted for the river. A second later, Jaime heard the noises of retching.
He glared at Toran. “That’s disgusting, you know that?”
“I always liked spiders as a kid.” Toran turned away and sneezed from the pollen. “They never hurt me.” Then he tromped off to the river.
Jaime shuddered. Back on Mount Alairus, he was bit plenty by house spiders. “Where are you going?”
“I’m sweaty, stuffy, and need a bath. Shut up.”
“But we can’t stay here—”
It was no use. Jaime swiveled around as Toran’s pants came flying off. The lumpy boy gave a manly shout and jumped in.
Jaime stopped beside Eridene to make sure she was still breathing. She wiped her mouth, her face green.
“Well,” he muttered, “I suppose it’s a good time for breakfast.”
Jaime scoured around the rocks to study the plants. One of them, at least, was familiar—rock lettuce. It also grew on Mount Alairus’s lower altitudes. Hida used to take him down there to pick the tangled purple flowers and mix it into a salad. A fresco of related memories appeared in his mind: clanking of clay pots. The minty smell of kingpine. The way she shook olive oil and bits of goat cheese into their bowls. It would always happen in that particular order just before she called him to dinner.
Jaime!
He could almost hear her voice in the winds, swishing through the blades of grass.
Eridene bent down beside him. “What are these?”
Jaime blinked back into the present, forcing the shakiness out of his voice. “This? Rock lettuce.”
“Rock lettuce,” she repeated. She called to Toran: “Hello, spider brains! Food! Come and help us pick some rock lettuce!”
Toran blew a raspberry. “Rock lettuce? Give me my meat!”
He peeked at Toran. The Kaipponese boy wasn’t exactly the skimmest cheese on the plate, but he certainly was proportionately big. Which wasn’t fair when their ages were so close. Jaime had always been skinnier than an olive branch no matter how much barely meal he ate.
Toran’s bellow echoed across all of Lord Jaypes’s creation.
“Come on in, you wimps, join me! Juno, answer before the River King! Duel me with your Air!”
“Sweet gods,” muttered Eridene.
Their heads were inches away from each other now. Jaime peeked at her. It annoyed him that she was half a head taller than him, but the feeling puffed away when he absorbed the glow of her ocean blue eyes. She had two small dots on her right cheekbone he never noticed before.
I wonder if she’s betrothed to anyone.
His crotch tightened—and panic prickled his whole face.
Lady Eridene turned her head slightly. Jaime pulled his head away, scrambling for something, anything, to fill the silence.
“I meant to ask you.”
She raised a brow. “Yes?”
He took in a deep breath, too afraid to ask her about a betrothal. “Why are you in Jaypes? And how to you know Toran?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I kind of think it is if I’m letting you along.”
Her face twisted into a sarcastic smile. “You wouldn’t understand since you don’t know about my war.”
“Sure I do.
It’s called the War of The West, isn’t it? Your King’s name is—” He frowned at the sky, recalling his assemblies with the Arcurean Council. “Gildas. Uh, Brennte. And the Emperor of Kaippon is Viro Tazuga.”
“It’s Tazuga Viro, stupid. In Kaippon, they go by their surnames first.”
Jaime rolled his eyes. “How did the war start?”
Eridene stood up and faced the river. “It doesn’t matter. Not to you. The Glaiddish and Kaipponese Courts feel that way about your war, too. They’re obliterating each other without a second glance at Jaypes. You’re about as good as a dead trout to them.”
Jaime stood up, too. “Great, because I feel the same way about you and Glaidde—”
“But I think it’s foolish of them to think that way.” She shook off her boots and dipped her feet into the river bank. “I think you’re important.” Quickly, she added, “In a utilitarian way, of course.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Emperor Viro’s fire is unstoppable.” She paused. “I believe we need something else on our side to tip the scales. Not more armies. Not more warships. We need another Sage.”
“Me?”
She slipped deeper into the river till the water was up to her ankles.
“Why don’t you ask my father to help you?” Jaime said.
“I think your father is a filthy heretic who deserves to be hung from the gates of Temple Jaypes.”
“So you came to Jaypes to convince me to join your war.”
She waded through the water, keeping her back turned.
Jaime furrowed his brows. Considered the full battle gear of her mercenaries, Toran’s flightiness in the Arcurean prisons as Jaime questioned him.
He suddenly understood.
“You were going to kidnap me!” he exclaimed. “The whole thing in the library was a bluff. You weren’t ever going to hand me to Usheon. You were going to sail me to Glaidde!”
Lady Eridene didn’t turn around.
“Don’t you have a heart?” he bellowed. “I watched my older brother burn at the stake! He was screaming my name, and I couldn’t help him. That’s why I’m fighting, so that the same thing doesn’t happen to thousands more Jaypans—”
“It only started out that way, okay?” Water plashed into a rainstorm as she swiveled around. “Why do you think I let you go after the battle at Arcurea?”
“You didn’t have a choice!”
“I always had a choice,” she roared. “You snivel about you war, but this is nothing compared to what’s happening back at home—”
“Why’d you help me escape those scouts? Are you going to lead me to your sellswords so you can dump me into a cargo ship after all?”
Eridene stormed out of the water, ramming herself into his chest. “I don’t have to be on this malodorous island of puke, but I am! So I can help you!”
“Why!” He shoved her back. “Why do you care what happens to me?”
She grinded her teeth together. Jaime glanced at Toran floating in the background.
“I get it,” Jaime seethed. “You think that if you help me, I might return the favor—”
“No, Toran thinks that way. Because he’s a true man. Too bad he thinks you are, too—”
“I don’t need you—”
“I don’t need you either, Prince of Pimples!”
Toran noticed them and cupped his hands together.
“What did she say?”
Jaime called back irritably, “She likes your ass.”
“My what? Eridene’s talking about my gas?” He waded through the water to get to them. “You mean the mouth or butt kind? Come on, tell me! I knew girls were all about it!” He pleaded and whined at them until Eridene took them all by surprise—she tackled Jaime onto his back.
Toran’s eyes bulged.
“Wowie, Beanie! Are you wrestling someone? I’ve taught you well, young apprentice!”
“Apologize for foul talk,” she hissed in his ear.
“I think you should apologize for how foul you smell.”
She yanked him forward and punched his nose.
He gasped. “You punched me!”
“Yes I—”
He bit her arm. Eridene cried out in furious surprise. Yanked his ear. It wasn’t until Toran leapt out of the river, grabbed them both, and shoved them apart that they stopped murderously grappling for each other.
Eridene breathed heavily. Jaime held onto his nose. It felt like it was swelling to the size of a grape cluster.
“You’re both more dope than the dope that’s ruling this Kingdom,” Toran said. He slipped his shirt back over his head, glancing into Jaime’s knapsack. Scowled down at the gnarly bunch of rock lettuce. “Next person who starts a fight, I’ll beat ‘em up. Now go make me lunch.”
“Go put on your pants,” Eridene snarled.
She and Jaime exchanged a fiery glare before they stormed off in different directions.
For the next three days, Jaime and Eridene avoided each other—until Toran noticed the cottage.
It sat on the other side of the plateau, squeezed into a rocky alcove. Candlelight flickered through one of its sleepy windows.
He clenched his medallion. This was the first sign of life they’d seen since they landed in western Jaypes.
Toran’s swollen eyes opened. “I can’t believe we didn’t notice it earlier.”
“Prince Jamian might have if he wasn’t so engrossed by himself.”
“No, I’m just grossed out by your screwy temper.”
“Okay, shut up, both of you.” Toran jogged downhill. “Let’s go find the cottage. Maybe they’ll have ah—ah—ah—” He sneezed. “Food.”
They followed after Toran, Eridene keeping at the front, Jaime travelling a few feet behind them. When they drew closer, his sandals juddered to a stop.
It was the strangest structure he’d ever seen: a dark roof with strange, curved eaves. Two stories high. A signpost hung under its door with the emblem of a white, pillow-shaped object.
Eridene groaned. “I don’t believe this.”
“What?” Jaime said. “What is it?”
“Toran,” Lady Eridene grabbed his slab of arm, “don’t you think we had enough dumplings at the seaport? If I have to eat another one, I will throw up on you.”
“You kids do what you want, but I’m getting me some yum-yum.” Toran broke into a full-out sprint and tossed his arms into the air. “Yaaaaah, dumplings! Ashi’maga, Lord Kaippon!”
“What’s a dumpling?”
Eridene pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring him.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Jaime said.
He still didn’t entirely trust Kaipponese foreigners, and if there was one doing business out here, in the middle of nowhere, that could only mean a royal garrison was stationed nearby.
Jaime said, “We better make sure he’s okay.”
They closed the final distance across the plain until they were outside the dumpling house. Toran was pounding hard on the sliding door. A stream of Kaipponese words rushed through his teeth.
Jaime stopped beside him. “What’s going on?”
“The dope won’t let me in.” Toran glowered at the door. “I know he’s in there. I saw him peeking at us through the window!”
An old man cried out in a tinny voice: “Go away! We closed!”
Lady Eridene took her friend’s shoulder. “Leave him alone, Toran.”
A passing draft swept the grit at Jaime’s feet. He tensed. They whispered Ancient Empyrean words to him that he couldn’t understand, only feel.
Something was wrong.
Jaime took two steps back. He drew out a basic attack current in his mind. The edges of his medallion glowed.
He released a strand of Empyrean energy.
Sw
ush!
The door smashed in.
“Jamian!” Eridene exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
Toran patted his back. “My man.” The older boy kicked through the splintered hole, shoving his body through.
Jaime’s sandals smacked onto a thin rush mat. The walls were made of wood, not mud or clay.
Weird.
And there was the dumpling owner—a toothless old man with no beard and hoary wisps of hair on his liver-spotted head. He was small and cute. And probably older than the island’s oldest tortoises.
Jaime dropped his guard, suddenly guilty. Had he heard the winds wrong?
The owner hobbled in front of a black curtain hanging over the kitchen’s doorway. “Aiyee, what are you doing? You kids stir up big trouble!”
Toran stomped up to the Kaipponese. “Why you toying with my hunger, grandba?”
Eridene tugged him backwards. “Toran, leave him alone.” To the old man, she smiled in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry about this, mister. He’s just hungry, but we’ll be leaving now. Right, Toran?”
Again, the winds whispered to him.
Help. Help . . .
Jaime slipped through the slitted black curtain. The old man shrieked.
“No, no! No go—”
A basket strainer lied toppled on the earth floor. Half-chopped vegetables hung over the wooden sink. A chopping knife was stuck in the wall. Two metal boilers spilled half-cooked rice and steaming water over the mortar stove.
It was the most bizarre kitchen he’d ever seen.
He started to believe it was empty—but his heel kicked against iron.
Jaime swiveled around. A cage was set against the back of the kitchen, big enough to hold a fat swine.
Only a human body was in it.
“Lady Glaidde,” Eridene whispered behind him.
Both of them bent down and peered through the hood. A boy. Maybe sixteen or seventeen. Jaws unruly with stubble—he must’ve been on the road for awhile. His dark brows arched downward like the curve of a hawk’s talons. Jaime shivered. But the most striking thing of all was the flushed gold of his skin.
That can’t be right. There hasn’t been any sun in Jaypes for fourteen years.
Stormfire Page 19
