Rather than answer, Ara kept drinking the yogurt.
* * *
When they’d eaten as much as their bellies would allow, Ara and Teth went to the bar.
“Now that you’re recovered,” Teth said, sliding a smile at her, “should I describe the expression on your face when you ate that pepper?”
Ara’s returning look threw daggers. It only made his smile wider.
“Maybe later then,” he teased.
Turning his attention to the tavern keeper, Teth said, “My friend and I are looking for a guide.”
The woman’s brow furrowed. “To where?”
“A place sacred to Ofrit,” Ara told her. “Called the Tangle.”
The tavern keeper blanched, taking a step back. “That is a place of death and should not be spoken of.”
“I have no choice but to go there,” Ara replied, though her heart had skipped a beat.
The other woman gave her a long, assessing look, then said, “Ask, if you must.”
She gestured toward the open room.
Ara took a step away from the bar toward the center of the space and cleared her throat.
“Excuse me!” She raised her voice, and in the sudden quiet it seemed deafening. “We are seeking the Tangle. If you know of this place, we’d be grateful for your aid.”
Though the room had gone silent, no one bothered to look up. Nor did anyone volunteer information.
Ara bit her lip in frustration, but she could hardly blame the tavern patrons. Who was she to appear in this remote village, demanding forbidden knowledge? The locals would be within their rights to run her out of town.
“That went well,” Teth muttered.
“You’re not helping.” Ara searched the room anxiously, willing someone to glance her way or beckon for her to follow them to some quiet place where their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
Eamon, why aren’t you here to tell us where to go? A sudden pang gripped her chest.
Movement in a shadowed spot where the firelight couldn’t reach caught her eye.
Someone or something rose.
The shape seemed much too large to be a person. It reminded her of a bear rising from all fours to its full height.
Whatever it was filled the corner of the room from floor to ceiling.
The hulking shadow became a man. A huge man. He came toward them, and Ara could swear she felt the floor tremble with each of his steps. When he drew near, she had to tilt her head up at a steep angle to look at him. She’d never encountered such a tall person. He looked as if he’d been hewn from the trunk of one of Wuldr’s mighty oaks.
“You seek the Tangle.” His voice was a low rumble. “I know the way.”
Ara couldn’t place his features; they could almost be called Fjerian, but not quite. He had a pronounced jaw, broad cheekbones, and a face cut in sharp lines. His eyes were ice blue and his hair the color of summer wheat. Most striking were his clothes, or rather, the lack of them. He wore a leather kilt with side slits that revealed his log-like thighs, and a matching harness crisscrossed his broad chest. All the rest was skin baked golden by the sun. Muscles like boulders. Muscles in places Ara didn’t realize one could have muscles.
What cobbler crafts boots that big?
And he was shiny. Too shiny. Ara thought it must be a trick of the firelight because his skin glistened as if it had been oiled.
“Who leads you?” The man looked from Ara to Teth.
“I do,” Ara answered.
He looked her up and down, but in his gaze she found neither approval nor disapproval.
“Then I speak with you only.”
Ara could sense Teth tensing behind her. She made a small gesture, hoping to ease his worry. While the stranger cut an intimidating figure, Ara didn’t fear him. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t armed, though his body was probably weapon enough. Even so, should anything go awry, her friends were near enough to help.
“How do you know of the Tangle?” Ara asked.
The man smiled broadly. “I have business with one of the gods; it sometimes puts me in the paths of the others.”
“What god do you serve?” Ara asked, surprised that he spoke so openly of the gods.
“Wuldr.”
The Hunter. Ara considered that, and a smile played on her lips when she observed that this man could have been Wuldr in human form. But Wuldr didn’t play those sorts of games. It put her at ease that the stranger had dedicated himself to Fjeri’s god. The god of her homeland.
Without prompting, the man said, “You will need a guide. I will take you to the Tangle.”
“I appreciate your offer.” Ara wished she could take a few steps back so her neck didn’t cramp from looking up at him. “Would you mind if we get to know each other a bit more before I accept?”
“Ale,” the man said.
“Excuse me?” It wasn’t the response Ara had expected.
With a grunt of disapproval, the man addressed Ara as if she was a child. “You are asking for my time. To share in cups is a gesture of respect and the only honorable way to begin a negotiation.”
His tone gave Ara the distinct impression that this negotiation had already gotten off to a poor start.
She wasn’t familiar with the tradition he’d described. In Fjeri you provided food and drink to visitors in your home, but not to strangers on a first meeting.
Who is this man? Where is he from?
“Then I shall buy you ale,” Ara said, not wanting to give further offense. It wasn’t as if there were volunteers lining up to show them the way to the Tangle.
The huge man pointed at a table. “There.”
He walked to the table and sat down. Ara stared after him in disbelief.
He didn’t even tell me his name.
Baffled but intrigued, Ara ordered two ales from the tavern keeper. She would have preferred a different drink but didn’t know what kind of insult or provocation it might be if she ordered something else for herself. She carried the ales to the table where the man sat quietly, noting that Teth, Nimhea, and Lahvja were watching anxiously from their own table a few feet away.
The stranger also noticed. “Your friends seem reluctant to leave you. Do they not trust in your ability to negotiate?”
“They trust me.” Ara bristled at the question. It’s you they’re concerned about.
Ara set one of the ales in front of him.
He took the cup in his hands, turning it slowly.
“It should be skirva,” he murmured.
“Did you want something else?” Ara asked. She’d barely heard him, but thought perhaps his negotiation included the sharing of a wide range of cups. She sent a silent plea to Wuldr that it was not. More than two mugs of ale would set her head to spinning.
He shrugged. “Never mind.”
Lifting the cup in one hand, he said, “Fair dealing and friendship.”
“Fair dealing and friendship.” Ara raised her cup in kind. The sentiment was one she could agree with.
“Now we strike our cups on the table twice, exchange cups, and drink.” The stranger’s voice had saddened. In his eyes she saw a vast loneliness.
His eyes met Ara’s. Following his lead, she hit the table twice, timing her strikes with his. They traded cups and drank.
Ara took one gulp and set her cup aside. It didn’t make her head swim like fali, but the taste was horrid by comparison. The stranger drained his cup with relish.
“Good!” He slammed his cup down. Then he turned a smile on Ara that was so broad and bright she could hardly believe the same person was sitting across from her.
Did that brief ritual make him so happy?
“I am Joar,” he continued. “And I will take you to the Tangle.”
“My name is Ara.”
“Ara.” Her
name rumbled in his throat. His heavy brow furrowed. “You are a small creature.”
“And you’re a very large creature,” Ara shot back.
“You take offense at my words, but you should not,” Joar told her, shaking his head. “The deadliest beasts of the world come in all sizes. In Vijeri, the sting of the waterfall wasp will kill you in moments. Metildi’s spider is no bigger than your smallest fingernail, yet its bite will paralyze even the largest of men and render them helpless while they are cocooned by the attacker’s thousand nest mates. The ruby viper would barely bracelet your wrist with its gleaming red skin, but if it struck you with its tiny fangs, you would be raving mad two days later with no known remedy to save your mind.”
Ara was fairly certain he’d meant this invocation of perils as a compliment, but it only put her on edge about their imminent journey into the jungle’s depths. She did not want to be cocooned by a tiny spider’s nest mates, and she could barely keep herself from shuddering at the thought.
She’d presumed Joar was much older than herself, but sitting across from him, she could tell he had a young face. His size belied his youth.
“Why would you help us?” Ara asked.
Joar signaled for another ale. “You chase a secret of Ofrit. That means either you are fools or you serve a great purpose. I will always aid those who are in service of the gods.”
“And if we’re fools?”
“Then you will meet whatever fate Ofrit fashions for you,” Joar stated in a flat voice. “And I will know you deserved it.”
“Aren’t you worried that you’ll die with us?”
Joar frowned at her; then a slow smile overtook his face. He laughed as his eyes danced merrily. “No.”
Ara stopped herself from shuddering, barely.
“I am also helping you because no one else will,” Joar continued, still grinning. “The Vijerians don’t like others delving into their mysteries.”
“I can hardly blame them,” Ara muttered, then said, “I’d like my friends to join us now. Is that acceptable?”
Joar nodded. “Now that we have raised our cups and spoken our words, it is right that I meet my new companions.”
She beckoned for Joar to follow her to the table where her friends sat with the remnants of their dinner. Making room for the chair Joar dragged over, they watched him with varying degrees of curiosity and apprehension.
Lahvja spoke first. “We still have plenty of food. Would you like some?”
“I am grateful,” Joar told her, and immediately tucked in to the dishes.
He picked up the same pepper that had rendered Ara senseless and, before she could warn him, popped it into his mouth. She waited for heat to overwhelm him, but Joar chewed and swallowed, then continued eating with enthusiasm.
Ara caught Teth’s eye and his brow lifted, expressing his own puzzlement at their new companion’s seeming imperviousness to the wicked vegetable.
“So you’re friendly with Wuldr,” Teth said to the huge man. “I can respect that.”
Joar spared him a glance, obviously more interested in food than conversation. “You know Wuldr?”
“Know would be an exaggeration,” Teth replied. “But I’ve made my home in his forests for quite a while now.”
“Hmmm.” Joar ate. They sat and watched. He ate until all the food was gone.
Pushing back his chair, he patted his belly and let out a satisfied sigh. Then he stood, his gaze sweeping over the four of them.
“Meet me below the inn at dawn.”
He walked away without another word.
“Friendly guy.” Teth watched him leave. “Who else is excited to travel with him?” Teth raised his hand while the others sat staring at him.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
7
When they returned to the walkway between the tavern and the inn, the rain had become a light mist. Nimhea and Lahvja walked side by side, talking quietly, while Ara and Teth hung back.
Ara was about to offer him a reluctant good night when he took her hand. His touch sent a tendril of warmth curling through her.
“Come with me.”
Her breath hitched slightly at his words. They held an invitation and a promise that stirred her to the point of being unsettling. She let him guide her to the ladder. He gestured for her to descend first. With reluctance she let go of his hand and climbed down. He walked between the tall beams supporting the inn and toward the jungle.
“Wait,” Ara said. She had no desire to leave the safety of the village for the unknown wilds at night. Joar’s description of Metildi’s spider and the ruby viper were still fresh in her mind.
“I promise it’s safe,” Teth told her. “And it’s not far.”
Teth took her hand again, and her heart skipped. He moved with confidence despite the darkness. She marveled at his silent steps and the sinuous flow of his limbs. The moon was up, lighting the jungle in a manner adequate for thieves but that left Ara wanting a lantern. It was incredible that Teth could find his way so easily. Maybe someday he would teach her how to navigate the shadows. Their sessions training with the Loresmith staff had stalled once they’d reached the Zeverin Gorge. She missed the time they’d been able to spend alone. More than the skills she learned, Ara wanted more stolen moments when they could laugh and trade playfully barbed quips. Heat flooded her limbs as she remembered the way Teth would stand behind her, his strong hands on her hips, adjusting her stance. Those same hands sliding down her arms to her wrists until he changed her grip on Ironbranch.
Now Teth had found another means to steal time for the two of them. Quite the thief.
A minute later, the trees and vines opened up to reveal three pools. Ara’s breath caught in her throat. It was beautiful. The water gleamed with reflected moonlight. Iridescent lanterns on tall posts encircled the springs. Their light didn’t compete with the moon’s bright shine, but they gave off a sharp, herbal scent that Ara couldn’t place.
“The tavern keeper told me about these,” Teth said quietly. “They’re spring-fed, keeping them cool and refreshing.”
Cool and refreshing were two of the best words Teth could have uttered in this hot, sticky place. Smiling, Ara unbelted her tunic, then paused. With a polite cough and a roguish wink, Teth turned away from her. Her skin prickled with heat as if he hadn’t turned away. She imagined what it would be like to have his gaze following her every moment, the revelation of bare skin that she’d offered no other but wanted to give to him. The very thought of it brought white heat low in her body, making her toes curl.
She loosened the plait in her hair with her fingers until it fell in waves over her shoulders; the waves were like satin brushing over her heated skin, making her shiver. She pulled her tunic overhead so she wore only the undershirt that skimmed her thighs, wondering if she should remove it as well.
“Are you okay?” Teth asked, hearing her sigh.
Blushing, Ara stood undecided, half of her wanting to tell him to turn around and see her in this state of undress, to watch his expression as he took her in. The rest of her was uncertain she was ready.
“I’m fine.” Deciding she could remove her undershirt later if she desired, she climbed down a bank of smooth, round stones to enter the pool.
As promised, the water flowed over her skin like cool silk. She sank to her shoulders.
“Mmmmmm.” It was heavenly. She leaned back, dipping her head into the pool to soak her hair.
“Good?” Teth asked, slowly turning.
“Very.” She lifted her head, and water sluiced over her scalp and down her neck.
His gaze found her, and his jaw tightened. Something Ara couldn’t recognize passed through his eyes. Then he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
It had occurred to her to turn around, offering him the same privacy he’d afforded her, but he
r eyes refused to leave the sight of his lean torso. Torchlight danced off his bronze skin, shadows finding the contours of his muscles.
The bracing cold of the water no longer held the rising heat of her blood in check.
Teth tossed his shirt aside. Catching her gaze, he looked at her for a long moment, as if considering something. His expression told her nothing.
Then a slow smile curved his lips.
“Would it offend you if I took everything off?” he said casually. “I’d rather not wear my trousers into the pool.”
Heat climbed up into Ara’s cheeks and down her body. “I don’t mind.”
When he reached for the button of his trousers Ara quickly turned away, heart hammering against her breastbone. She swam to the center of the pool.
Though she resisted sneaking a glance over her shoulder, her rebellious mind tried to conjure an image of what Teth would look like without any clothes. She shut her eyes as if it would stop the vision and swore under her breath. The feelings rippling through her were wild, beyond her control, thrilling and frightening her.
She heard a quiet splash, and the pool rippled around her. She dared to turn around.
“Ahhhhh.” Teth swam toward her, grinning, but stopped a few feet away. “I know I’m supposed to be from here, but I much prefer the weather in Fjeri. Even the winters. I can’t take this mucky heat.”
“Neither can I,” Ara said, relieved that their conversation avoided anything about Teth being naked. She couldn’t see his body beneath the waterline, but simply knowing that he’d shed all of his clothes set her heart to racing.
Why would we say anything about him not wearing clothes? She cursed her ridiculous thoughts. Because it’s all you can think about, her own mind answered. She groaned inwardly.
“And that rain,” he continued with a shudder. “I didn’t think it could be possible to drown atop a horse, but I believe it now.”
Ara’s laugh sounded a little too loud to her. Despite her attempts to concentrate on Teth’s face, she kept stealing glances at his bare shoulders and the top of his chest where the moonlight made his skin gleam.
Cast in Secrets and Shadow Page 7
