37. Diar
Diar
The town of Paragon’s Reach would never have survived an attack like the one on Tsuyan. We rode into a cluster of fishing huts pressed against a quiet lake, unfettered by guards or gates.
I leaned forward in Arrow’s saddle, drinking in the sight looming above.
The black tower, Tur Isaevlair. Home of the Paragons.
It rose from an island beyond the shore. The water grew frenzied at its bounds, crashing against sheer rock walls in violent waves. From a bed of silver grass, the tower ascended toward the stars, stained glass windows reflecting their pale light.
Ferris leaned around me, grabbing the reins and yanking. I shook from my stupor and noticed I’d been leading Arrow off the road into the wilderness.
“So she gets distracted easily.” Ferris sat back. “Good to know.”
“Can you blame me?” I asked, looking back up.
“It's impressive. I always wondered why it didn’t become a more popular tourist destination.” He fished a pouch out of his pocket. “Big enough for some light shopping, at least.”
Tying Arrow up in a field of silver grass, I slid off the saddle and patted my own pockets.
Empty.
I still wore a dress. From the knee down, it was torn to shreds—I’d ripped it apart to allow better movement.
Ferris leaped off Arrow and shook a few coins out of his pouch. “Here.” He tossed me the bag and pocketed the gold he'd removed. “That should cover everything you need.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not sure I should let you out of my sight.”
He threw up his arms. “We’re in the world’s smallest fishing village. Where am I going to go? To drown myself in the lake?”
“You’re welcome to.”
“Always so polite.” Ferris leaned in too close for my liking. “Get yourself something nice. My treat.” He winked and sauntered off down the muddy path.
Testing the pouch’s weight and finding it sufficient, I set off.
Spring was coming. Snow melted and dripped from the roofs, and the lake had been freed from its icy shell. Icicles still clung to the tower’s friezes, hanging like ornaments for the heroes who called it home.
Dragging my gaze from the tower, I wandered into the town’s humble square. A surprising number of shops dotted the dirt paths, though I supposed Paragon’s Reach was a common stopping point for those traveling between major cities.
I stopped, coin purse dangling from my fingers.
Kentoro and Tsuyan stained their wood buildings ebony, but here the birch wood was left in its natural state.
The world seemed brighter, people seemed .
. . softer. Men and women smiled and nodded as they passed one another, their trousers stained with mud, their tunics old and patched.
Akemi had mentioned traveling changed his view of the world. Life spent among nobles made you forget how simple regular people were, in comparison.
Nobody here looked at me with judgment, with scorn. They had more important things to worry about.
Feeling more relaxed, I went about my business, trying to remember everything we’d need to reach Nazumi without starving to death.
I couldn’t buy suitable battlewear, but the robes the fisherwomen wore would do. They hung to the ankle with a slit rising to the knee. Soft white pants underneath warded off the early spring chill.
Was life kinder to simple fisherwomen? They didn’t have to wear dresses designed to trip their wearer, nor marry stodgy lords before their twentieth year. No luxuries cushioned their days, but I felt a sting of envy, seeing how the women here toiled alongside their men.
It wasn't like me to stand around and think. Shaking off my errant thoughts, I dipped into a bathhouse to change and wash off, then bundled my supplies in a bag and roamed the village, searching for Ferris.
A woodcarver’s shop stopped me in my tracks. The window peered in at a table displaying a pipe carved with patterns of leaves and twisting branches.
Turning on my heel, I marched into the shop, ignoring the man whittling at the back. Gingerly lifting the pipe, I turned it over in my hands, admiring the craftsmanship and sinking into old memories.
A fae pipe. Supposedly, an Iceborn craftsman had acquired the design in a deal with a fae. Magic enchanted the very schematics, imbuing a quality to the smoke no other pipe could hope to replicate.
Akemi had loved his fae pipe. When no one was looking, he’d share it with me. Mother had caught us and pretended she saw nothing.
It was one of my few fond memories of her.
“Heavens.” The woodcarver joined me, wiping his hands on a rag. “The way you ran inside, I assume you’ve been looking for one of these?”
Fae pipes cost a fortune. But Ferris had told me to treat myself . . .
Fishing out the coin purse, I jangled the gold inside. “How much?”
A gentle breeze blew in from the lake. Silver waves lapped against black sand, calm and serene.
Sitting here, on a rock by the sea, it was easy to forget the death our country had suffered.
Nazumi might not save me. Death might be the only path I could walk, be it from the men of my country or the monsters from the dark.
In that case, I would enjoy today, because tomorrow might not come.
With a heavy sigh, I finished tying the twine around my stick. This was hardly the finest fishing pole ever crafted, but it would do.
“There you are,” Ferris called, walking down the beach toward me. “And it looks like you remembered people need food to survive. I’m impressed.”
Brushing back my bangs, I turned to him.
For the first time since we'd met, he looked like a prince.
A gorgeous forest green coat hugged his figure, tied off at the waist by a silver sash.
He flipped up his collar with considerably more dramatic flair than was necessary and offered me a roguish grin.
Ferris noticed my pole and pointed. “What have you there?”
“I’m going to fish,” I said, casting the line into the lake. “The Archdruid can wait a day for my arrival.”
“Are you sure? Your father's men might be hunting us as we speak.”
“I haven’t summoned Siotha yet. He probably doesn’t care.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” Throwing back his tail flaps, he sat beside me. “You look cozy.”
“I am cozy,” I said, pulling his empty coin sack from my pocket. “Here.”
He sat forward as I pressed it into his palm. “Saints! What did you buy?”
“You said to treat myself.” I leaned back, watching the bait bob on the water. “I’ve been wondering something. Why were you starting tavern brawls during Winter’s Tide?”
“You’re not very good at easing into conversation, are you?” Ferris leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “That’s . . . complicated to answer.”
“It just strikes me as odd that a prince would be here, rather than home.”
“You’re here, rather than home.”
“Because my brother showed me there was a world beyond the walls, and I want to see it.”
Ferris’ mouth slowly stretched into a grin. “You’re surprisingly eloquent sometimes, for being so simple.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to give his answer.
His grin fell away. “My father has always treated me differently from Laiserian. The queen hates me—she pretends I don’t exist most of the time. I assume I was born from an affair.”
“So you punch people in taverns?”
“Not at first. When your own family detests you so much, you start wanting to be anywhere else. Besides, I have a talent for music, and bards belong in taverns.”
Ferris had most certainly not been playing music the night we met. He looked like he’d been drinking and carousing.
Choosing not to bring that up, I turned back to my line. “How does joining a rebellion fit into your story?”
“It's not exactly easy to join. We’re quite secretive, if you’ve noticed.”
“Good point. I could torture the information from you.”
“Would you believe I don’t know much?” He blew a curl out of his eye. “I’m an informant. The information flows one way—from me to them.”
“Do they have a goal besides slaughtering the people of Muirashi?" I asked, fingers tightening around the pole.
A cold breeze tore across the beach, sharpening the silence. Ferris stared at me for a long while before answering.
“I don’t know.”
He looked sincere enough. But I’d never been good at seeing through lies.
I had no choice but to believe him—after all, his story made sense.
Here he was, blabbing to me. No wonder they’d kept him in the dark.
My line tugged, and I bolted from the rock, reeling in my catch. Ferris sprang to his feet, watching intently.
Fishing was not unlike swordplay. I’d told Akemi that often, and he’d stared at me like crabs were crawling up my face.
Either way, I was good at both—and little else. Pulling the rod up, I yanked a bright blue fish from the silver waters and caught it in my hand.
He was two handbreadths across, nicely plump.
Dinner.
Lowering my catch, I caught Ferris looking at me with an odd expression. Not quite a smile, not quite a frown.
“What?” I asked.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you look genuinely happy.”
His words shot an arrow through my heart. I didn’t know why. But I nearly doubled over, suddenly swept up in intense emotions.
Swallowing them back, I looked away. “Ladies of Tsuyan aren’t often allowed to leave the house. Fishing trips were special to me.”
Fishing trips and fae pipes. Akemi rambling on about the girl he was trying to court, unable to understand women’s emotions.
Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the fae pipe and the pouch of leaves.
“Ah.” Ferris grimaced. “So that’s where my gold went.”
“Mhm.” Sitting back on my rock, I lit the pipe, set it in my mouth, and cast the line back out to sea.
Death defined my entire life. The absence of laughter, the absence of him. Remembering the days before. Feeling like the purpose and point had been buried with them. Trudging through the hours, lost.
Life went on without you. All the world was like a play. The actors moved, but you couldn't.
You were just stuck.
I dragged in the smoke, the unique scent of leaves and clove fae pipes produced.
Maybe one day I could try living again.
But not yet. I had business to finish first.
It would begin in Nazumi. And end in death.