Chapter 6
Emmeric
Emmeric narrowed his eyes at Imo. “What do you mean I’m not going home? Is that a threat?” He paused a moment as another thing she had said struck him. “How did you know my name?”
The old woman chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. “Goodness, no, boy. Do I look like I could threaten you?” He surmised she was going to ignore how she knew his name.
He glanced her over once more, assessing for potential threats. “Others would say no, but I think you have some tricks that would best me if I tried anything.”
Again with the soft laughter. “You’re smart. You’ll need that.”
Millions of follow-up questions burned inside him, but something told him he’d only get more cryptic answers in response. Imo hadn’t been the most forthcoming person so far. He couldn’t understand why he was being held hostage instead of being executed, what their plans were, if Imo was sane or not, and if anyone he knew was still alive. Talon was on the forefront of his mind again. Also, what in the nine hells had the shooting star been about? He renewed his efforts to slip his bonds with a vigor he didn’t previously possess. Something was about to happen. He’d been feeling it down to his bones since the raid began.
“Can you tell me if any of the men I came here with have died?”
Imo regarded Emmeric shrewdly for a moment that stretched into eternity. Did she notice he was trying to free himself? “You care for those murderers?” she eventually asked.
“I care for one, but he is no murderer.”
“Your prince,” Imo stated knowingly, nodding her head.
Emmeric shook his head emphatically. “No, not the prince. Although I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell him that. It could get me arrested for treason.”
Imo appeared genuinely shocked at this revelation, then broke into a wide smile. Her teeth were all still in perfect condition, and blindingly white. “In answer to your question, all but one left here alive.”
His heart sank in fear. Visions of Talon dead in the sand flitted across his brain. Imo noticed his terrified expression. “Oh,” she said. “A lover, perhaps?”
Emmeric’s eyes snapped to hers. “What? N-no,” he stuttered. He coughed lightly, trying to tread around such a question. “Uh, no, not a lover. Just a—a long-term friend.”
Imo winked at him. “Such things are not taboo here in Istora. I have known many a man to take other men into his hut.”
“Look, he’s a childhood friend, okay? A brother. Nothing more than that.” He felt as if his face was on fucking fire. Imo was slowly nodding to herself. She probably thought he was lying. He tried to recover from his embarrassment. “Can you describe the dead man?”
Imo shrugged. “He was older than you, younger than me. Around fifty years of age, gray hair. Sound like your… friend?” She raised an eyebrow.
A deep breath that came from the depths of his soul shuddered free. “No, that’s not him.” His lack of caring for a fellow soldier unnerved Emmeric, but as long as it wasn’t Talon…
“What does he look like, this friend of yours?” she asked. Imo definitely thought he was lying.
Talon’s laughing face crossed his brain, and Emmeric couldn’t help the grin the image brought forward. Shit, he wasn’t helping himself with the ‘not lovers’ angle. “He’s got long, bright red hair and blue eyes, but a lighter shade than mine. He’s usually smiling or laughing, but probably wasn’t in the context of last night. And he has a tattoo, same as mine.” He angled his left arm towards Imo to show the blue dragon twining around his arm.
“I saw him,” she said. “Unlike you, he actually was helping people out of their burning homes and ushering them away from the rest of you.”
Godsdammit, Talon.Emmeric had talked to him about this. They both wanted to help instead of hurt, but they had agreed to be mostly bystanders unless their life was in danger. Tal shouldn’t have actively helped evacuate the villages. It was reckless, a surefire way to earn a noose around his neck. Emmeric only hoped nobody had seen.
Imo nodded pensively at his silence, then her eyes became distant. She turned her head as if she was listening for something in the distance. Finally, the ropes loosened around his wrists. As the blood came rushing back into his fingers, he bit back a hiss of pain. He couldn’t let Imo know he was free. He opened and closed his fists slowly, trying to ease the pain, while holding on to the rope so Imo wouldn’t see it fall. Her head snapped back to him. Oh shit, I’m caught. He tried to hide any possible guilty expressions.
“My granddaughter has returned. Come.” She stood slowly on creaking knee joints and walked out of her hut without him. She called over her shoulder, “And do nothing that will cause me to restrain you again, boy.”
Emmeric followed Imo outside, rubbing his wrists. There were definitely going to be bruises tomorrow. She had shuffled away from her hut, not looking back—seeming to trust he’d follow without question. Glancing around, he mentally debated with himself about making a break for it. No other dwellings or people were nearby—only desert and cactus off into the horizon. It was then that he noticed a girl on all fours vomiting profusely. There was a tall man next to her, and he was—was he shimmering? It must’ve been the heat waves from the desert floor. The sun was rising higher bringing an oppressive heat. Emmeric began to sweat. The foreboding feeling he’d been carrying since the night before intensified.
Those two were where Imo was heading, though, so Emmeric obediently followed her with no hesitation. His curiosity about this whole crazy situation was getting the better of his common sense. Everything inside of him was screaming to run, but this girl was a magnet he felt drawn towards. He knew instinctually there was no running. Not from whatever this was.
The girl lifted her head. Her dark hair was tangled, hanging in her face. While she looked more pale than she did last night, she was still recognizable as the woman yelling at the sky. She looked first at Imo, who Emmeric guessed was her grandmother, then over at him. Her eyes narrowed. “You!” she shouted, attempting to stand. Another wave of vomiting immediately overtook her. The man at her side stood by with a confused expression; he did nothing to offer aid or comfort. He didn’t seem especially concerned the girl couldn’t stop vomiting. The closer he got to the pair, the more he noticed the stranger was glowing faintly. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, but he truly was still glowing. Not knowing what to do with the discovery, Emmeric promptly ignored it. He found things to be easier that way.
The girl finally controlled herself and rose into a crouch, panting. She glared at him from behind her hair, appearing very much like a feral child, and he knew she was making a promise she would act upon later. It raised the hairs on his arms, but he stared her down all the same—refusing to be intimidated by this slip of a woman. Once the girl seemed in control and stood, still swaying slightly on her feet, Imo spoke.
“Well, it appears you two—” she waved between the glowing man and the girl “—already know each other, but formal introductions still need to be made.”
Looking back at him, not surprised in the least to find he had followed, Imo gestured to the girl. “This is my granddaughter and protégé, Iyana.” Her hand waved idly back toward him. “And this is Emmeric.”
“Grandmother,” Iyana said, still breathing deeply. She bent forward to rest her hands on her knees. “Why is Emmeric still alive? Furthermore, why is he here and unbound?”
“It’s really quite simple, my dear. Fate has brought the two of you together, and I’m afraid it is now inescapable.”
“What?” Iyana and Emmeric said in unison, his full gaze now trained upon Imo.
“You think that’s simple?” he asked the old woman.
“I do not want to be associated with him in any capacity,” Iyana practically growled as she shoved a finger towards Emmeric.
“Yeah, and no offense,” he said, “but I think she’s going to stab me in my sleep.”
Iyana rolled her eyes. “If you’re lucky.”
“Hush, now, both of you,” Imo snapped. They both kept their mouths shut, and Iyana even looked a little ashamed. Imo stared daggers at her granddaughter. “You started this, child, when you called upon the stars despite my warnings.” She shook her head sadly. “I did not want for this to be your destiny, but it seems the universe has specific plans for you.”
“What plans, Grandmother?” Iyana asked. She sounded desperate for answers. Emmeric was grateful she was just as lost as he was.
“Ask him.” Imo nodded towards the stranger, who until this moment Emmeric had completely forgotten all about.
“Oh, um,” Iyana stuttered, blushing slightly. “This is Altair. I found him in the desert. He’s a—” She stopped herself short, cutting a glance over at Emmeric. She obviously didn’t trust him, and with good reason. He knew she saw the massacre he was a part of last night. She probably even saw him kill that man. He couldn’t fault her for not wanting to share vital information with an enemy. However, that didn’t stop Imo.
“He’s a star,” Imo whispered in awe. Emmeric’s head flew to her again, then back to the stranger. Now his neck was going to be sore later, along with his wrists and his still aching head, the herbal tea wearing off.
“I’m sorry, a—a what?” he asked.
“A star,” Altair confirmed.
Emmeric felt like his jaw was on the floor. A star? But he was…a man. “So, you were what fell from the sky last night?” he asked, hesitantly.
“That’s correct.” Even Altair’s voice seemed to shimmer.
“Okay, I’m lost and officially confused.” He turned to Iyana. “Are you following any of this?”
She narrowed her eyes but shook her head.
“Come,” Imo said. “Let us go inside, away from any inquisitive ears.” Emmeric’s head was buzzing as he mindlessly followed everyone back into the hut.