Chapter 11
VALANCE
Yes, I’d saved him. I didn’t want him to die. The soul bond had nothing to do with it.
That was as much pondering I allowed the subject. At least my headache had ebbed for the time being.
It was time to restore my focus on the journey, as much as my flesh craved his hand to be back on my throat. We’d come so close to something back at that boulder.
Delicious…
Yes, until the regret ravaged us.
Hours and hours of walking led to sore feet, dusty and sweaty bodies.
Taking those white, rimmed hats had been a smart move.
They held back burned scalps and heatstroke.
Our respective armor kept the sun off our skins, being long-sleeved.
Though with mine being black, my body was practically a ball of sweat more than anything else.
There were moments when I wanted to give up walking the arid lands.
If it weren’t for the supplies we’d taken, namely the water more than anything else, I would have collapsed and refused to go on.
This was a brutal, unforgiving place. My lungs ached from the chalk in the air, blisters covering my feet.
They stung to announce their presence. But onward we went, battling through the day.
The air changed after a while, when the sun moved to signal late afternoon, things turning cooler. We took a break in this new air, then moved on again when Chalk Snakes slithered from under the boulder we sat on.
Eventually, the air became briny, and the blessed sight of water shimmered on the horizon. We were almost on the west coast of Summer.
“Praise Danu,” I panted, stopping to lean on a large shard of chalk jutting from the landscape.
My gaze pinned to the ever-approaching Summer Sea, I also saw a line of green stretching along the coast. Dotted with palm trees, a divide between sand and chalk.
I smiled at it, quickened my pace.
“Thank the gods,” Kormac said.
The palms were tall, their leaves expansive enough to provide wonderful shelter. The sounds of the waves were sweet music in my ear. Sunlight sparkled on the surface, inviting me for a dip.
Before I did that, I noticed what we’d come here for.
Between two palms, an old woman sat reclined on a cushioned, pink lounging chair. The same old woman with her terribly lined face, wrapped in a black cloak, not dressed for an afternoon at the beach. Her gray hair seemed longer and a little cleaner.
I fell to my knees on the soft, cool grass in the shade of the palms. Ran my fingers through the blissful crop, bent and pressed my face against it.
“We made it, Kormac.”
He stood beside me, his focus on the old woman.
I got up, aching all over.
A map of Faerie, sketched on worn parchment, was pinned to the bark of the tree on my left.
Held there with nails, it fluttered in the sea breeze.
I took in the four realms of this world—Summer in the east, Spring to its west, connected by the Bridge of Suns.
Autumn sat further west, linked to Spring by the Bridge of Leaves.
Joined to it, and in the north was Winter.
“You did make it, Your Highness,” the old woman spoke. She sat up, stroking the side of her face. “Come and sit with me. Drink.”
From nowhere, two more pink lounging chairs appeared. I didn’t ask where they came from, only sat on one. Bliss on my buttocks, I sank into the material and slid up to rest my back against the top.
I noticed silver particles floating faintly in the air before vanishing—her strange silver magic.
“This is wonderful,” I proclaimed, not ready to discuss her strange power, or anything else, yet.
Just a few moments to enjoy this…
Kormac sat at the end of his chair.
“Relax here for a while,” she said. “You must be weary.”
Once again, from nowhere, a table manifested, laden with fine glass pitchers of water and plenty of food. Bread and cake and cheeses. Fruit and vegetables and even seafood. Silver flecks of light sprinkled to the grass and fizzled away.
“What magic is that?” Kormac asked the question.
“Those are answers for the north. Please eat. Drink.”
I slid off my seat, helping myself to water and fruit. She’d provided us with things before, so I didn’t fear her hospitality.
Watermelon and water made for wonderful thirst-quenching things. Kormac ate a slice, too, drank the water, and even started working on a loaf of bread.
“So, we meet again,” the old woman said, a plate of fat shrimp in her lap. “This is the me of here. The part of me to guide you to the next me.”
“And hopefully provide us with more information.”
“To guide you on the road.”
What a careful answer. Irritatingly, I suspected any real answers would only become a full whole in Winter. Unless she wanted to place a nice surprise at our feet.
“Then speak, please,” Kormac said.
“What would you like to know?” the old woman responded, stuffing the shrimp into her wrinkled mouth. She made short work of it.
“Haven’t you got anything for us?”
“Food and water,” she said between licking at her lips with a gray tongue. “Shelter and lovely lounging chairs to rest your weary bones.”
“What else?”
“Clarify this, Kormac.”
He looked to me, then back to her. “Why we’re bonded together, for one.”
“Because you were seen in the stars.”
I groaned, joining in. “We already know this.”
“Chosen to be together,” she added. “For there is something within that aids the quest.”
“Within who?” I asked. “Kormac?”
“That is to be seen.”
“You said that the last time we met,” Kormac added. “We want to know more.”
She ate another shrimp, taking her time with this morsel. “But you are only here.”
Kormac rested his hands on his thighs. “What does that mean?”
She looked between us, her unworldly silver eyes unsettling. “Did I not say to let us see how far you can get? Did I not say that answers lay in the north?”
She was right. I remembered. But still… “The last part of you was to tell us of the quest,” I said. “What is this part?”
“A guide. To help you. I will repeat what I said to you the last time we met, just to be clear.” She ate another shrimp first, then drank water slowly.
I wanted to smash that shrimp plate over her head.
“Follow the advice of the many parts of me on the road, and you will at least head in the right direction,” she said.
“You really have nothing more for us?” Kormac asked.
“Of course, just not what you wish. I cannot reveal secrets of the north. That is for me up there. I must come together again in order to do that.”
“You’re spread too thin,” Kormac said.
That made me chuckle. They both glared at me.
“Apologies,” I offered.
“Sorry for glaring,” Kormac said to me.
That made her laugh. “The soul bond is humorous, is it not?”
“Frustrating,” I countered. “Not particularly funny… Only, it is not a thing of frustration.”
Danu! How was that remotely negative enough to warrant a correction?
“In response to your question, Kormac,” she continued, “I am indeed spread too thin, as you put it. For the good of your cause, to help you as best I can—so you can embrace your dark caress, Your Highness. I want you to survive this journey. I want to see destiny play out, for what I have seen to become true and real and glorious.”
“I understand,” I said. “Even if I am frustrated.”
“I appreciate your frustrations, Your Highness. But I did not promise answers to you at this stage.”
“I know.”
“Good. Now take your boots off. I have a salve for you. I see you have lost the first batch I gave you.”
“Goblins,” I said. A pity you did not foresee those…
Her already wrinkled face creased further at the mention of goblins. “Remove your boots. Rest.”
“Is it safe?” Kormac asked.
“I would not purposely lead you into danger.”
“Good to know,” he responded, though not sounding terribly convinced.
I removed my boots, relief flooding my hot feet as the cool air licked at them. Danu, they throbbed, requiring a long soak in a long bath. Blisters decorated my toes, the balls of my feet.
“Here.” The old woman threw me some salve. “That will take care of them.”
The white cream certainly performed well as I applied it. Instant pain relief.
“Give it an hour, and they will be gone,” the old woman added.
Kormac did the same to his feet.
I yawned, settling down after applying the salve.
“Sleep if you must,” she said.
There seemed to be potent sleeping power in her words.
I drifted off to the sound of the waves, kissed by the sea breeze.
I woke up to sunset, the sky on fire with magnificent oranges and pinks. I stretched, feeling much better for having rested. My feet were also free from blisters.
“This is a magnificent salve,” I said.
The old woman still lay on her lounging chair.
“It is,” she agreed.
“Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, Your Highness. Now, tell me about your journey.” She ate two more shrimp after she spoke, her cheeks swelling up to the size of a squirrel’s after harvesting nuts.
“You didn’t see it?” I asked.
She shook her head.
Kormac told her the story of our journey from the cottage she’d offered us shelter in, up to this moment.
She finished chewing. “I’m glad you got through it well enough.
And thank goodness for the compass. It navigates you to me with the quickest direction.
” Her grin both frightened and enraged me.
It caused doubt in my trust. I held trust close to my heart, never offering it freely.
Yet I did trust her to a degree. She hadn’t been lying about anything so far.
And I trusted Kormac. Honestly, truly trusted him. With no choice, yes, but also because… Because I…
I saved him on my own.
I want him around.
I ate some bread with butter. Wonderfully soft with a hard crust.
“You must cross the Summer Sea now,” the old woman said. “Reach the Autumn Sea and then Autumn itself. That is, when you are rested and ready to leave here. Take your time.”
“Won’t we be found here before long?” I asked.
“I have tricks in place,” she replied.
“What tricks?”
“To befuddle an eye. Fear not, Your Highness. You are safe here until you head back on the road.”
“Your magic hasn’t the skill to send us to Winter without the journey?” I inquired.