Twenty-Four
Kyrundar
After I put up an ice barrier, Zidra fell asleep quickly. I wasn’t tired, but I didn’t leave. I didn’t know if I’d reached for the bond to check on her, if she’d shared her emotions willingly, or if her feelings had been so powerful they had traveled through the heartbond without her knowledge, but I’d felt her fear. Her worries of being assassinated, yes, but also her dread of being alone—abandoned and unwanted.
I would not let her wake and think I had left her.
So I sat on my cot and kept watch. Sajen checked on us, and I let him know Zidra was sleeping, then returned to my post. When my eyes grew heavy, I went to sleep myself.
The sound of Zidra moving about the room woke me before dawn. A candle flickered dimly in the corner, casting long shadows as she huddled over her pack .
“You’re up already?” I rubbed grit from my eyes and sat up. “What time is it?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Bells tolled five a few minutes ago. I can put the candle out—”
“It’s fine.” I yawned and tossed aside my blanket. “No sense in going back to sleep now when we’ll need to be at the docks in about an hour and a half. I’ll just be groggier if I try to sleep for less than an hour.”
“Sorry—”
“No need to apologize, Zee.” I smiled wryly. “You did get to sleep early last night.”
Her shoulders hunched, and she didn’t answer as she rearranged things in her pack.
“Are you all right?” I asked softly. “And you can be honest. You don’t need to pretend for me. I’m not judging you. I’m not upset with you for being a person with feelings, and I honestly want to know.”
Her sigh made the candle flutter, but the tension in her shoulders eased. “Is it terrible that I like that I can tell whether you’re lying?”
I frowned. “I do usually make a policy of telling the truth.”
Zidra huffed a quiet laugh. “I suppose you do. It was unfair of me to assume you were like my family, hiding derision or ulterior motives behind your words.”
My heart ached for her. “Unfair, maybe, but also understandable.” Abruptly, I straightened, the last of my sleepiness draining away. A sly smile crept across my face. “Wait. How do you know I wasn’t lying? Are you accessing the heartbond, Zee? ”
She bowed her head farther down over her pack, so her thick curls hid the side of her face. “Maybe.”
“Mmm.” I slipped off the cot and padded over to kneel by her side. “Do you like being bonded to me, Zidra Eilmaris?” I whispered near her ear.
She shivered. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Flirt.”
I drew back a little and watched her closely. “Why?”
“I told myself I wouldn’t kiss you again until the curse is removed.”
My mouth fell open. “ Why ?”
She finally lifted her head to peek at me. “If removing the curse removes the heartbond, then I’ll know if it’s just the magic affecting me.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
Her lips pursed. “I don’t know.”
My mood deflated. “I suppose I should get dressed,” I mumbled, more to myself than to Zidra.
We didn’t speak much as we finished getting ready and then waited for Sajen. We made our way through Gamnica in silence, past sleepy townspeople going to their shops. Sajen kept glancing at us both through narrowed eyes as if he suspected something was off, but he didn’t ask.
As per our agreement with the Tristan ’s captain, we took up posts to keep watch for sea serpents. We’d offered to help the crew, but the idea of untrained hands getting in the way had made Captain Hulme grimace. Although the Tristan had a single mast and square sail, it was long and wide, with two decks and a high sterncastle, and as such, it had a crew of forty people. While not a common problem, sea serpents did occasionally attack ships off the Glacorian coast, so standing on the edges of the upper deck was both useful and kept us out of the crew’s way.
Of course, Hulme was happy to host rengiri on his ship, regardless—probably hoping our presence would ensure favorable winds and safe ports. He had offered his cabin in the sterncastle for our comfort, but Zidra had immediately refused. I smiled fondly at her, although her back was to me as she stood at the ship’s bow. She was the most hardworking and honorable rengir I knew.
But as it turned out, she was also the least seafaring rengir I knew. Within an hour of our casting off, Zidra stumbled away from the ship’s bow toward the hatch to the lower deck, looking rather green. Alarmed, I started toward her, but Sajen reached her first.
“Seasick?” he called.
Zidra nodded and pressed her hand to her stomach. “I’m going to go lie down—”
“That won’t help,” Sajen and I said in unison.
Zidra grimaced. “Then what will?”
“Switching positions, for one.” Sajen motioned her toward the spot midship where he had been standing. “Less movement in the middle than at the ends. Keep your eyes on the horizon and try to breathe slow and steady. I’ll ask the captain if he has any ginger…”
Reluctantly, I left Zidra in Sajen’s care and returned to my own post. I wasn’t sure it would help with a physical ailment, but I tried to send soothing sensations through the heartbond anyway. Maybe that was overstepping given her apparent hope that destroying the ice curse would remove the heartbond, but if she really didn’t want me to do it, surely she’d send some kind of angry message back. Since I didn’t sense any displeasure from her, only annoyance that seemed more directed at the rocking of the ship than at me, I decided she at least didn’t mind.
By nightfall, Zidra had grown accustomed enough to sea travel that she was able to fall asleep below deck, but sleep evaded me. The creaking of the ship and muffled sound of ship hands occasionally calling to each other on deck kept me awake despite the rhythmic swinging of my hammock. Or maybe it was my confused thoughts about the woman lying little more than an arm’s length away. She kept pushing me away and pulling me in only to push me away again, as changing as the tides. My heart couldn’t take much more of this. If she wouldn’t commit one way or the other, I’d take matters into my own hands and leave.
Everything in me rebelled at the thought, but I knew there was no alternative.
Tomorrow we would reach Seath Inlet, where I prayed we would find Rouven. Then he would save Zidra’s life—I had to believe he could.
After that?
Either I’d start courting Zidra officially, or we would part ways.
Iskyr…
I fumbled for words to express the yearnings of my heart .
Do what you will.
Iskyr had placed Zidra and me in the same class at Harcos, had put us both in the Order, and had linked us with a heartbond. Perhaps there was a reason.
As much as it hurt to admit, though, that reason could just be saving Zidra from the ice curse and assassins.
I wouldn’t be angry about that, though. If Zidra and I weren’t meant to be together, at least she was alive.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but a man’s voice and someone gently prodding my shoulder woke me. I lurched upright and tumbled out of the hammock, landing with a thud on the unforgiving wood floor.
“Sorry!” Boots scurried backward, likely belonging to the sailor who had awoken me.
“Ow.” Rubbing my hip, I sat up with a groan.
“Are you all right?” Zidra dropped to a crouch next to me, her eyes wide with worry.
Grand. Falling out of my hammock like an idiot was such a good way to convince her to stay.
“Kyr?”
I forced a smile. “I think my pride took the worst of it.”
She rolled her eyes and stood. “Your pride could take a few hits.”
I caught her hand before she fully straightened. “You were worried about me, though.” I winked. “Admit it.”
“Obviously. Who is going to sense Rouven’s traps if you break your skull falling out of bed?” Yet she didn’t pull her hand free of mine, and the corner of her mouth twitched with mirth .
My lips curved into a full smirk. “On second thought, I think you’d best check me for injuries. Just in case.”
Zidra pressed her lips together and raised an eyebrow as she looked me over. “No blood. You’re fine. We’re nearly to the inlet.” She tugged on my hand. “Get up.”
I pushed to my feet and let the added momentum of her pulling propel me forward. We bumped into each other, and I snaked my free arm around her waist.
“I don’t know,” I whispered as I gazed down into her coppery-brown eyes. “I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “I’m starting to believe you’ve never flirted before. This is terrible.”
Leaning closer to her ear, I murmured, “Then why are you breathless?”
Someone cleared their throat, and Zidra nearly leaped out of my arms, wrenching her hand free of my grasp. Stifling a sigh, I turned to face the sailor. His skin had taken on a ruddy hue as he stared determinedly at a post off to my right.
“We’ll be passing the Seath Inlet within a quarter hour. Rengir Hargren has already headed to the deck.” He bobbed an awkward sort of bow and turned sharply on his heel before marching away at an impressive speed.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you make someone uncomfortable,” Zidra said dryly. She darted around me and followed the sailor.
Well, she wasn’t angry I’d broken her no-flirting request, so I counted that as a win and trailed after her.
On deck, the air was cold and sharp with the taste of salt. The bright edge of the sun crept over the coastline to the east, casting the mountainous coast in shadow and setting the peaks ablaze in glowing orange. Something stirred in my chest at the sight, familiar yet foreign. While I was growing up, we lived near my mother’s family in Bryluthia. But we’d visit my father’s family in Glacori on the other side of the Ithemorca Mountains most summers. Many pleasant memories included watching the sun melt behind the mountains as the stars came out.
Zidra stepped up next to me and leaned against the railing, squinting at the horizon line and taking deliberately slow breaths. For a moment, I let my mind run wild, imagining taking her to meet my family, watching white ermine bounce through the snow, and showing her all my favorite places in Glacori and Bryluthia. Well, not all of them. I’d already shown her the pond where I’d learned to ice skate and my favorite ice elf cathedral a few years ago, after we’d finished a mission together in Glacori. My wistful mood evaporated.
Looking back, I don’t know how I’d mistaken her disinterest in my tour for mere exhaustion when she was probably resenting me for elbowing in on another of her missions. At the same time, it felt equally foolish that I’d thought I needed to show Zidra places that I remembered fondly from my childhood but also hadn’t realized how much I cared for her.
Zidra shivered and wrapped her arms tighter around herself. Only the bustle of sailors going about their tasks around us stopped me from putting my arm around her and pulling her close. Not that I cared what they thought, but if Zidra was unsure about our future together, she might care.
My magic tugged inside me, drawing my attention from Zidra to the coast.
Captain Hulme pointed at an indentation along the coastline. “There it is.”
I nodded. “I can sense potent ice magic.”
“I suppose it’s time, then.” Sajen shifted into his huge gryphon form. I could barely see over his lion back without going up on my toes, so I was relieved when he crouched down for me to clamber onto his back.
Zidra turned toward us. “Be careful. Both of you.”
“When am I not?”
A sound rather like a laugh rumbled deep in Sajen’s chest, but Zidra gave me an unamused look.
“All right, when is Sajen not careful?”
She shook her head. “Iskyr guide you and bring you safely back.”
Sajen lightly bumped his eagle head into her chest, then lumbered to his feet and took to the air.
With the increased altitude and speed of Sajen’s flight, the air over the Aizurgon Sea went from chilly to frigid. I drew on my powers to keep myself warm, thankful that Sajen’s fur and feathers meant he didn’t need my help. Using my magic to keep someone else warm was much more complicated and taxing.
Sajen slowed and banked lower when we reached the inlet. A vertical blue line of ice shimmered on the rock faces on either side of the entrance, the magic so potent I could sense the warning and danger laced into the ice without effort. As agreed, Sajen turned aside and flew over the steep cliffs to the south rather than directly over the water or the lines of magic.
I gathered my magic into my hands, ready in case I needed to protect us against a magical attack. Snowflakes swirled around my fingers, and I sent threads of magic to test the borders of the inlet.
At the end of the inlet, a cabin sat tucked under the protruding rock of a cliff. A man stepped out, his white hair tied at the back of his neck. He craned his head back to watch us approach. Sajen slowed even further. The man raised a hand, and a blue-tinted glow swirled around his fist. Snowflakes grew to ice chunks.
“We come in peace!” I withdrew my own magic to almost nothing, just enough that I could still react quickly if the man didn’t listen or couldn’t hear me. “We’d like to talk!”
“What?”
“Rengiri! Here to talk! Peacefully!”
The man didn’t respond or move to attack. Sajen dipped down as if preparing to land on the pebbled beach in front of the cabin.
“Not yet,” I cautioned. “The air is half-choked with ice magic, and by the way he’s scowling at us, I’m not sure he isn’t going to attack.”
Sajen turned instead to fly across the width above the beach. The man watched us cross once and back again .
“Permission to land and talk?” I shouted as Sajen passed the cabin a third time.
At last, the man lowered his hand, although blue light still spiraled around his fist. But then some of the stifling ice magic surrounding the inlet relented.
“Land cautiously and be ready to take off again,” I advised.
Sajen bobbed his head and dove, forcing me to grab a fistful of feathers with a stammered apology.
We landed several paces from the cabin and the man. White pebbles scattered from the impact of Sajen’s landing. I jumped down, and Sajen shifted back to his true form. We both bowed our heads. The wrinkly-faced ice elf just crossed his arms and grunted.
“Thank you for allowing us to land,” I said. Given the old man’s attitude, I deemed it best to give some information before I asked for any. I pointed to the insignia pinned to the breast of my tunic. “I’m Rengir Kyrundar Ilifir, and this is Rengir Sajen Hargren. A friend of ours, Rengir Zidra Eilmaris, requires specialized magical medical attention. Are you Gautindar Rouven?”
The man stared back at us, his expression like that of a toddler asked to eat vegetables. Was he deaf? I didn’t remember enough hand signs to communicate without any words. Or was this not Rouven at all?
“How did you find me?” he snapped, his voice rough as wood bark.
A calm sense of Iskyr’s reassurance nearly made me slump with relief. “It wasn’t easy, but the powerful ice elf hermit with expensive tastes seemed a good guess.”
Rouven grunted again. “I’m retired. And a hermit. Leave me alone.” He turned toward the cabin.
“Wait!” I held out my hands, begging him to halt. The moment he slowed, I sprinted across the rounded stones and skidded to a halt within arm’s reach of the man we’d traveled so far to find. “Please! We’ve been to Merael’s, and they couldn’t help us. Physician Mirlanwen told us to find you. I don’t know where else to go if you don’t help. My friend, my…the woman I love is going to die.” My voice cracked.
“I’m still retired,” Rouven grumbled, although with less vehemence. He stepped toward his house, but I grabbed his arm. His other hand snapped up with speed that belied the age spots on his skin, and I barely had time to raise a defense before our magics crashed into each other with the sound of shattering ice.
I moved back and held up my hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry. But you might be the only person with both the power and the medical knowledge to save her. The only way I’m leaving here is with your permission to bring Zidra back or because I’m dead.”
Rouven’s bushy white eyebrows pinched together low over his eyes, but he didn’t fully turn back to me. “What under Iskyr’s great sky could possibly be wrong with the girl?”
“She has an ice curse in her arm.”
His head tilted subtly. “Zidra Eilmaris… Not an ice elf name. ”
“Wyveri,” I supplied.
His eyebrows sprang up. “And she’s not dead?”
“I was able to pull the cursed magic back and trap it at the initial puncture site, but I couldn’t remove it.”
At last, Rouven turned his back to the blue door of his cabin, his countenance thoughtful. “When did this happen?”
“Er…” I thought for a moment. “Nine days ago.”
Rouven pursed his lips and stared out across the inlet toward the sea. I hoped the ship hadn’t traveled too far in the time since we’d left. The captain had ordered the crew to shorten sail until we returned, but this was taking longer than I’d anticipated.
“Please,” I begged. “If there’s any way I can repay you, I swear I’ll do it or return with whatever price you demand. Her dragon fire is constantly at risk of burning away my barrier, and it’s beginning to affect her arm—”
“Fine,” Rouven sighed. “Bring her. Even retirement doesn’t annul the oaths I took to use my knowledge and skills for life and healing, and as refusing might doom the girl, fine. Bring her, but I make no guarantee that I can save her. Besides, I admit I am curious to see this barrier you have placed. Never have I heard of such a thing being done.”
If I’d had the time, I might have fallen to my knees in gratitude. Instead, I shouted my thanks over my shoulder and ran back to Sajen, who was already shifting.
We quickly found the ship, and this time, Zidra rode on Sajen’s back while I struggled to keep up with the gryphon’s speed on my ice disk. Show-off flying-type shifters .
When we landed, Rouven was nowhere to be seen, but within moments, he poked his head out of his cabin and impatiently waved us inside.
“I’ll keep watch out here,” Sajen said as he took up position next to the blue-painted door.
Zidra looked at me. “Are we sure this is really Rouven?”
“As sure as we can be.” When she hesitated on the threshold, I grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be with you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She looked like she might argue, but then she nodded and took a deep breath. Her hand slipped out of mine, and I followed her into the house.