Chapter 43
Marshen’s promise to be my eyes, my nose, and my ears was what made me agree to bargain with him.
He was right, he had the keen senses I lacked to survive out here, especially if I were to encounter other friendly Naari men.
But it seemed that his I would hear them long before they would hear us justification, made him painfully chatty.
“Which part of Ramel are you from? I’ve never been there myself, but I do know a thing or two about its cities. I’ve met a few people from Sharlam.” His grin told me that the memories he shared with the people he spoke of were ones of pleasure.
“I lived in Sharlam.”
“Ah, the king’s city. You’re one of Princess Yosefa’s equestrian warriors, aren’t you?”
“Sand Warriors,” I corrected him.
“Right. I could tell from your attire. I had the pleasure of meeting Princess Yosefa some years back. We both had business in Sijar. But don’t mention me the next time you see her. I might have broken the heart of one of her girls, possibly two of them. Wait, did she send you here?”
“No.”
“Where did you two meet?”
“Who? Princess Yosefa?”
He let out a low chuckle. “No, I meant you and Prince Aegir.”
“Oh.” I lowered my gaze to the trail of crunchy, leafy terrain.
“So you won’t tell me. Did he send you here?”
“No.”
“Does he know you’re here?” I didn’t reply. “Where is he right now? Is he in Ramel, in Sharlam?”
Gods, he wouldn’t just shut up. I could feel the start of a headache.
“You’re a woman of few words,” he commented, after a few awkward hours of trekking in an earthy scent of moss and trees. Each breath felt different here—fresh and full of life. Ironic, I thought, considering how more than half of it was burned to the ground, now still slowly healing.
“Mmm,” was my only reply.
But then I realised that perhaps I should make something out of his loquacity.
I would be a good listener, and answer as close to the truth as possible, and then I would ask him questions.
At least I would learn a thing or two about him.
I was especially curious about his mission, and not only about what it entailed, but I was also itching to know why King Ryvar particularly sent him on a solo mission on their sister Land.
“Dunehaven.”
“What?”
“If you ever visit Ramel, I suggest you visit the Sunday market in Dunehaven.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m down to my last waterskin,” I told him, squeezing out the last few drops.
“There’s a stream farther down. And there are caves up along that path,” he said, pointing somewhere in front of us.
The cave’s concealed entrance deceived its grand interior. By grand, I meant a very high ceiling and enough space for both of us and then some.
“There’s no one around. Stay here. I have fishing nets close by; I’ll be back shortly.”
I tried to make something out of the quiet evening, and so I spent some time looking outside the cave, admiring the plants and the occasional chirping sounds of settling birds.
The sun was soon sinking. The soft breeze that caressed my face whispered of distant, hissing murmurs of crashing waves. We weren’t too far from the Wrathwater Depths.
Whenever I thought about what it looked like, the ocean, I always imagined myself on a serene beach, barefoot, approaching a calming bed of blue.
But I knew that my first time would be different.
I already feared what I had never seen, yet my stomach tangled with excitement.
Soon, I would see it, and I’d be seeing it in its dangerous form.
I gathered some twigs, logs, and rocks and set them up in the middle of the cave, just like the males from Silch had done when we journeyed to Dunehaven. I took out the immortal flame and let it burn until the small twigs caught on fire, and kept feeding it until the logs turned fiery red.
I moved the blanket three times until I found a floor beneath me that didn’t threaten to puncture my skin.
Lying on my side, I took out the dark book and skimmed through its pages.
A particular page caught my eye. A depiction of a witch from Brimholden, dating back a thousand years, and a name: Maara Ikubib.
Her eyes and lips were drawn big and full, her features beautifully prominent.
Her thick locks of hair were decorated with jewels and fabric.
Her cheeks were painted with symmetrical symbols that reached down to her chin.
Beautiful, powerful, and daring were three words that came to mind.
Footsteps approached and I quickly traded the book for wood and string, but I soon lowered my bow. Marshen entered the cave, six glistening fish in one hand, logs in the other. His damp hair was knotted in a low ponytail.
“You lit the fire,” he said, letting the logs tumble to the floor. I only nodded.
I picked around the scales and bones, chewing slowly, despite my hunger gnawing sharper with every cautious bite.
Marshen, on the other hand, devoured the fire-roasted fish whole.
I gawked at him. Then my stomach twisted at the thought that drifted through my mind, making it hard to swallow.
What would King Ryvar say if he knew that we—he—had killed three Naari soldiers? Did we just breach the peace treaty?
I again resorted to the book, a grim companion that offered some strange, quiet comfort.
“Resting is more useful for surviving than a bedtime story, you know?” Marshen said.
“You can sleep, I’ll take first watch,” I said, skimming through the pages in search of more depictions.
“You’ll be tired all day tomorrow. You can sleep, I’ll take watch.”
I kept my gaze on the pages. I didn’t think I would manage to sleep anyway. I didn’t fully trust Marshen—he could easily rob me and leave.
Marshen didn’t rob me and leave.
When I awoke, he was seated on the floor, his back against the wall and his knees close to his chest. My gaze shifted towards my bag, and I glimpsed fruit on top of it.
“Good morning,” Marshen said. He used a small dagger to slice a piece of apple, which he then placed between his thin lips, the dagger coming dangerously close to his left eye.
“Good morning,” I mumbled.
“There’s a little stream behind the cave if you want to, you know…tend to your needs.”
I was grateful for it—the stream. If only my god had rivers of water to offer us instead of sand and stone.
The sound of the turbulent sea grew louder and angrier as we hiked for long hours. I asked if the ocean would be visible soon.
“Not yet. We’ll keep on this path, then head west when we are closer to the Falls. It’s better if we avoid the cliffs and remain hidden for as long as possible.”
I was about to say something but Marshen snapped his head my way and grabbed hold of my arm.
He pulled me into a crouch and lifted a shushing finger to his mouth.
His hand hovered between our faces and he lifted another finger.
Two. Then he lifted another, and another.
Four. We stayed like that for a while, hidden behind the shrubs of mock orange.
“Let’s move,” Marshen urged, leading us towards the dipping sun. Hunger had been gnawing at me, but I knew better than to ask if we could stop. Marshen’s hurried pace told me we couldn’t risk a pause.
“There are more caves up there,” he said, pointing towards a small, rocky hill, not far off. “We can camp there for the night. I have some nets close by, I’ll get more fish.”
“You have fishing nets conveniently lying along the coast?” I asked.
“Something like that.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Fourteen months.”
“A long time, then.”
“I’ve been everywhere in Ilma. Well, except for the Stone Temple and the Castle of Nerithia. Those are excessively guarded. The rest of the Land has small patrols scattered throughout the territory. The main entrances of the waterways are also guarded—the sea, too.”
“So your mission does not require you to sneak into the two most important edifices of Ilma?” I asked carefully.
“Well, I went near. My mission is not there. There’s no one and nothing inside those buildings, just many guards on the outside of them.
It’s as if the Naaris took whatever they needed, destroyed what was essential, and are just guarding their inanimate remnants.
But I’ll tell you this, in fourteen months, I’ve seen change, slow, but still. ”
“Yes, I noticed the regrowth amongst the scars of the fires.” I asked my next question thoughtfully. “So what you seek is animate, like people—a person, perhaps?”
“Well, someone’s finally talking. Have you been saving all of these questions?”
I ignored him and instead said, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Fine,” he huffed. “I was sent to look for someone. To retrieve someone.” His words reminded me of Aegir’s cousin, Galen. They had searched for him, for his body. “What about you? Why do you need to go to the Falls?”
“I’m also looking for something.”
“Very informative. And are you certain that this something is there?”
“Not really.”
“Wow.” Marshen’s lower lip covered his upper and he bobbed his head. “I’m sorry to say this but your answers are portraying you as some crazy lady. Unless…unless you have what is known as intel on whatever it is that you seek. You are traversing prohibited territory after all.”
“I was told that what I seek is beyond the Falls and beyond the Depths. I paid handsomely for that intel.” In fact, it felt as if I had paid body, mind, soul, and silver for it.
“All right. So I’m looking for something, you’re looking for something.”
“Something like that.”
I sat near the fire, looking for more depictions while Marshen sizzled our fish. My gaze settled on a polished map of Ramel and its fortified sandstone coast along the Brim Sea. My finger traced the coastline of my Land, stopping at the Unnar Caves. I read the legend beneath the map.
“Hey, did you know that a thousand years ago, two witches entered Lyrantheia through the Unnar Caves?”
“I obviously didn’t know that. I’ve heard of those caves, though, through fables. Aren’t they some myth?”
“Myth? They are very real.”
“You’ve been there yourself?”
“No, of course not. But a Sand Priestess taught me about them. Some maps include them, especially old ones, like this one,” I said, extending the book towards him. “I don’t know why the more recent ones seem to have forgotten about them.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s because they’re a myth.”
“Believe what you want,” I bit out.
We were silent for a few minutes, the faint breeze carrying the sound of the roaring sea from afar. I found the constant background noise somewhat soothing.
“I expect us to make it to the Falls by tomorrow afternoon. Do you know what you have to do once I escort you there?”
“Is there a bridge to Mistgeil Island?”
“A bridge?” Marshen laughed—a genuine laugh that had him holding his belly.
“Why did my question amuse you so much?”
“There’s no bridge to a wasteland. Avian shifters from Silch flew over Mistgeil Island. They said there’s nothing there but barren land surrounded by eerie mist.”
“Then no, I don’t know what I have to do, yet.” The word yet didn’t sound as convincing as I wished it to.
“You know, if you don’t find what you’re looking for, I can happily escort you back to Aegir. Perhaps we could settle our bargain then. He is in Ramel, right?”
“We’ll decide that tomorrow.”
“As you wish.”