Chapter 63
Emika was right—we did end up outrunning a storm.
It was partly my fault. I held us back during the first couple of days.
But travelling on horseback while bleeding required frequent breaks.
We also had to stop for tea, which was my only source of temporary pain relief.
It did nothing compared to Aegir’s healing powers.
I often felt like an addict, craving even the smallest of hits.
Day three started off much better.
I nestled my cheek against my folded arms that rested on the wooden edge of the boat as I looked across the Neverglade River. Cool wind caressed my face and whipped at my loosely bound braid.
I paid a handsome fare for us to travel on a boat large enough to carry our horses, but it was worth every coin.
The greenish-blue river was placidly pristine—crystal clear.
So clear that I could see schools of fish swimming beneath the shimmering surface.
I imagined the river to be different—dull and uninviting—knowing that it coursed east towards the creature- and monster-infested brown swamps. This was the complete opposite of that.
A background of green mountains stretched from afar, their tips hidden beneath the thick grey clouds.
I had never seen so many colours at once, so much life thriving in air, water, and land alike.
Birds soared in synchronous flocks along their coast; they, too, seemed to be evading the nearing storm.
The tranquillity around us—ignoring the approaching grey clouds and the shouts and orders bellowed by the crew members—was both mind and soul calming. I took a deep, fresh inhale.
Our journey was oddly but perfectly quiet. None of us spoke. We all appreciated the beauty before us in complete silence; even Marshen seemed lost in this thriving world.
Though I did get the sense that the farther we travelled north, the quieter he was becoming. After all, he was returning home with something different than what was asked of him.
Yes, definitely quieter.
By the fifth day, he was close to being called speechless by his own standards, and whenever I looked at him, he glanced back with a blank face, then shunned his eyes away.
Should we have gone to Aegir first? Should we have specifically ensured Marshen’s end of the bargain? But I carried the scent of his brother, for gods’ sake. That should be enough. More than enough, in my opinion.
The condensed cloud coverage with scattered thunderclaps had us seeking shelter beneath a rocky overhang for the night. The sky’s doors finally surrendered and the hissing sound of pouring rain started right before we slept.
My eyes slowly opened.
I reached for the pocket flame and rose to my feet, snuggling in Emika’s furry coat.
I took slow steps towards the rain and stopped only when occasional raindrops splattered against my cheeks.
I could make out the shadow of the silver moon gleaming beneath layers of dense clouds.
Small puffs of cool, wet air brushed my face.
I opened the pocket flame and watched the cascading rain fall like a silver curtain.
Streaks of lightning cracked across the night sky, illuminating the wet, shimmering forest before me.
The night dimmed and a rumbling roar echoed seconds later.
“Can’t sleep?” Marshen asked from behind me.
“I wanted to look at the rain,” I replied quietly.
How things would have been different back home if it were to rain like that there.
Lightning flashed once more, allowing me a flickering glimpse of Marshen’s profile. He stood at my side, watching it pour.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “You seem…preoccupied.”
“I’m fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Uh…you getting executed?
“Listen, if you want to go back, I can tell King Ryvar myself. I’ll tell him that you found them,” I assured him, my voice low.
“Go back? Go back where exactly? I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life chasing ghosts.”
“You can stay here in Sijar, and I’ll come back for you once I arrange things. I’ll bargain with King Ryvar for your freedom. I pro—”
“We’re going together. I’m not sitting out my only shot.”
I gave him a reluctant nod.
“Delia, I—I have to tell you someth—”
“Sylva pluck me, will you two shut up?” Vinnie snapped. “And turn that goddessdamned thing off, the lightning’s already enough as it is.”
Marshen made to move but I yanked his elbow.
“What?” I whispered.
“Never mind, it’s not important. Let’s get some rest.”
When morning came it was still raining, and it rained still the next morning, too.
Our mares weren’t very keen on travelling in the unyielding downpour.
I reached into my inner breast pocket, meaning to take out my compass, but I took out Aegir’s by mistake.
I brushed its golden casing and opened it. The dial read northeast.
Huh?
I replaced his with mine and opened that one, too. It also read northeast. It probably regained its function after drying. Thank the gods. I vividly imagined Aegir returning to his room after the conceiving ritual only to find an empty desk. I gave a small shiver.
“You still don’t trust our senses?” Braun asked, closing his mare in on mine.
“Oh no, I just wanted to check that they still worked,” I replied, straining my vocal cords against the rushing rain.
“Smart answer.” I gave him a small smile. “Look over there,” Braun said, pointing west and up.
I pulled my hood away to get a better view.
Beyond the glistening forest and a foggy sky, I could still make out the shape of it.
The castle of Eldervynn stood tall on the top of a mountain-like ridge.
For a second, I felt like I commanded the clouds, as when I wished for clearer visibility, they drifted out of the way, allowing me a better view of the castle.
Its walls shimmered in silver, the rooftops green.
From afar, I could still make out the connection of bridges that spanned around the castle walls.
“Does that mean there are villages nearby?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. We’re in the region between Eldervynn and Florentine. There are plenty of villages here.”
“And we’re heading towards one of those, right?” Despite admiring the lush blessings of Sylva, the thought of a lit hearth and a warm bath made my toes curl.
“We were actually thinking of setting up camp in caves nearby, they’re—”
“We’ll do no such thing. We’ll be sleeping at an inn tonight. My treat.”
“I won’t argue with that,” Vinnie replied to my left.
So even the Strongmen of Sijar liked sleeping indoors, nuzzled in a comfy bed.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grunted the second I entered my room.
The gods must have decided to play a cruel joke on me, Sylva especially.
She was Aegir’s goddess after all. The theme of the room I was shown to was Dionaea muscipula, commonly known as the Venus flytrap.
I could count at least a dozen decorated pots.
I shook my head with pursed lips before removing my dripping coat.
Rain pattered and tapped against my window in a delicate and rhythmic symphony. I was crouched, barefoot, in front of the unlit hearth, immortal flame in hand.
I stared, watching the logs burn, feeling the fire’s warmth against my outstretched palms. A realisation struck me.
I had been lighting fires using the immortal flame, and not even once had I considered the possibility of the secondary flames being immortal, too.
Thank the gods, they didn’t follow the same rule as their white parent flame; they burned red and died in time.
I imagined Ilma burning once more to the ground, its new vegetation succumbing to white flames caused by my inattentiveness.
A knock came at the door, transporting me back to Sijar.
“Hello, Lady Wildheart. I’m Flora, one of the servants here. I came to bring you fresh towels.”
“Oh, thank you,” I said, taking the towels from her hands.
“Are you comfortable? Do you need anything else?” she asked with a wide smile that had me wondering if it was fake or if it was just the way she normally grinned.
“Actually, there is. My clothes are all wet, is there—”
“Oh! Don’t you worry about that. I can get them dry for you in no time.”
“What? How? Is there someone who can wield water here?” I whispered a bit too quickly.
“Of course not!” She laughed, covering her mouth. “We use dried tearcatcher leaves.”
“Oh…I’ve never heard of such a plant before.”
“You haven’t?” she breathed. “How else do you keep your undergarment dry when you shed?”
“Can I buy some of these leaves?”
“Of course! You can buy the seeds, too.”
“I’ll get both, then. Thank you, Flora.”
“I’ll be right back, Lady Wildheart.”
I covered my florally scented, clean skin with my fully dried clothes and reached for the door handle.
I would rather have stayed cuddled up in my cozy room eating dinner in bed than join the others at the tavern, but Vinnie and Braun had travelled day and night, land and river, sun and rain, for me.
Having my final dinner with them was the least I could do.
The others were already downstairs. The empty wooden tankards scattered haphazardly on the high table and Vinnie’s slurred speech told me that the men had been drinking.
I took the empty seat next to Marshen and gave him a small smile. I was afraid that he wasn’t going to join us. His mood was off and he was clearly masking it by laughing at every one of Vinnie’s jokes.
Earlier, I wished to have dinner in peace, alone, but instead I found myself in the midst of chaos, nibbling on my food, as people circled our table.
Just like Marshen and Braun, they, too, listened intently and laughed at Vinnie’s punchlines. All right, I admit it, he did tell a few that cracked me a little, too.