Chapter 33
My mother used to tell me stories about the ancient tribes of Thelanor.
We’d sit around a bonfire and listen to her exciting storytelling about how many of them possessed unique powers. Of course, there were those who carried magic like the sorcerers, but there were unique tribes who referred to themselves as elementalists.
I was told the elementalists divided themselves into distinct communities by their designated elements. They would often join together as allies when it came to external threats. As we follow them, I realize being separated by elements is no longer the case because this tribe has a mixture of all.
The tribe’s queen takes us along a hidden path, where one of the elementalists waves a hand and causes a thick set of interwoven branches shaped like hidden doors to spread apart.
We pass through three of them before ducking under the thick trunk of a fallen tree and walking through gates made of silver.
This leads to a winding stone footpath, arched by greenery that’s tangled in sweet-smelling flora.
We don’t slow down until we reach the hidden world of Immalon.
The first thing I notice are the steep mountaintops in the distance with peaks jutting toward the sky.
Huts made of brick and wood with straw roofs are spread throughout the village.
A dirt footpath connects them. No matter which path you take, all lead to a crystal-blue lagoon reflecting a blue sky, mountaintops, and fleecy clouds.
White flowers embellish nearby bushes while gorgeous clusters of pink and yellow drip from low-hanging branches on surrounding trees. Bamboo stalks protrude between groves of trees. Everything is deep green and smells sweet here, like the air has permanently been fragranced with honey and flowers.
We pass the lagoon, where children play and giggle. Some levitate rocks in the air, while others fling splashes of water with rapid flicks from their dry hands.
Wow. The stories and curated art do not do this place justice. Not even the greatest artist in all of Thelanor could capture the grace and beauty of this place.
The tribe queen doesn’t stop until we reach two interconnected huts built on stilts with cone-shaped roofs. The elementalists assisting Thane, Rynthea, and Kelrean lead them into the building.
I start after them, but the queen stops me with an arm to my chest. Her forearm is wrapped in a fingerless gold gauntlet. Swirls of ink on the warm skin beneath it flow to her nimble fingers.
“You two will stay with me,” she says. Definitely an order and not an option.
I look from her to Algar, who now has Zephra cradled in his arms.
“Will they be okay?” I ask, glancing at the hut where the other three have now disappeared.
“They will be taken care of by our healers. Speaking of which…”
She gestures for a woman near the hut to come our way.
“Heal them, please,” the queen commands.
The woman takes hold of my wrists. Her hands warm up like a stoked hearth, and the heat transfers to me. An odd tingling sensation crawls under my skin, and right before my eyes, the stinging scrapes and visible rawness on my palms disappear.
“Gods, thank you,” I murmur in awe.
The healer bows her head before grabbing Algar’s wrists and doing the same. Once finished, Algar thanks her as well. She gives a quick bow before returning to the hut.
“Better?” the queen asks.
“Yes,” I answer, rubbing a thumb over my healed palm. “Thank you.”
“Good. Follow me.” The queen strolls past several more huts until she and the muscular man approach a stone building.
The first floor of the building doesn’t give much away, but on the second floor is a platform wrapped with wooden railing, along with several tables and benches for dining.
The queen enters the building, and the muscled man (who I assume is her partner) holds the door open, waiting for us.
I walk past, forcing a smile at him as Algar trails behind. He unexpectedly returns a smile and a nod.
We’re greeted with a dining hall, where nearly everything is made of wood and stone.
A hearth is built into the center of the room, and an archway reveals a massive kitchen where a group of people cooks.
Steam rises in front of their faces as they use fire from their hands to boil water.
Delicious scents waft through the hall, teasing my nose.
“Please sit.” The queen gestures gracefully to an open table. We pull out our seats, and once we’re settled, she claims a chair on the opposite side of us. The muscular man joins her. “Shall we start with your names?” She examines Algar and me closely now.
I clear my throat before telling her mine.
Algar follows suit.
“Zaira and Algar.” She stares at us, unblinking. “And the names of the others?”
“The prince is Kelrean, as he told you,” I say. “He’s from Bernwood.”
She nods. “I am fond of King Draedor. We’ve traded with him many times.”
“The minotaur is Rynthea Kamtaur,” I add. “She’s a good person.”
“She must be if that combat-heavy sorcerer is willing to save her,” the woman notes. “What is his name?”
“Thane Valkor,” I answer, my voice a little quieter now.
“And why do you travel with him?” She looks at both of us expectantly, her dark eyes narrowing.
“He’s helping me get somewhere.”
“And I’m assisting,” Algar tosses in.
The queen drops her eyes to Zephra, who is already studying her. “You care for creatures. For nature,” she notes after a brief silence.
“Of course I do.” Algar strokes Zephra’s back. “Nature is beautiful, and creatures like Zephra are the best parts of it.”
Her mouth twitches as she studies Zephra a bit longer. Then she sticks out her hand, and Zephra wiggles out of Algar’s arms to climb onto the table.
As Zephra climbs up the queen’s arm, the queen puts on a full smile—teeth and all. Not that I’ve known her for very long, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who offers lots of big smiles.
“What a beauty you are,” she coos as she holds Zephra to her chest and strokes her soft head. Zephra makes a pleased, throaty little noise, and even the muscled man smiles at the maobi. I understand. It’s hard not to adore Zephra.
“She should be roaming freely.” The queen turns her attention to Algar, still rubbing Zephra’s head.
“She chooses to stay with me,” Algar returns defensively.
“It appears so.” She pauses, smiling down at Zephra again.
“You know, it is considered an honor for a maobi to ride the shoulder of a human. They haven’t been seen doing that for many generations.
In order for them to do that, they must see you as their equal.
They are emotionally intelligent creatures.
Some believe maobis understand our feelings more than we can understand them ourselves.
The fact that she’s attached to you is interesting.
I’m sure you know how feisty and fastidious they can be. ”
Algar lowers his defenses, shoulders sagging a bit. “She’s my best friend, and we get each other.” He offers a half smile. It’s so sweet, seeing the adoration in his eyes. “I love her.”
Zephra squeaks and looks back at Algar. Then she wriggles out of the queen’s hands and scampers across the table to return to her person.
“And she loves you, too,” the queen replies.
Algar laughs softly as Zephra mounts his shoulder and nuzzles her head in the crook of his neck.
“You have questions.” The queen’s eyes are pinned on me again. So much for that smile.
“A few,” I say.
“Ask away.”
“Well, I think it’s best to start with your name…right?”
Her chin inclines. “Xiaodera, Tribe Queen of Immalon.”
“Nice to meet you, Queen Xiaodera.”
“This is my husband, Jehon, Tribe King of Immalon.” She gestures to her partner.
I smile at King Jehon, who gives me a curt nod.
“You nearly died on that bridge,” she says.
“Yeah.” I release a shaky breath, wanting to forget all about dangling from a fraying rope and then a slippery vine. “We almost did. How did you see us?”
“I have eyes at the borders. I was informed of a disturbance.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you showed up when you did.”
Someone from the kitchen enters the dining hall carrying a tray with a teapot on top. He places it on the center of the table, along with four wooden cups shaped like miniature bowls. With a bow to the queen and king, the man strides away.
Queen Xiaodera picks up the glazed clay teapot and pours steaming hot liquid into each cup. King Jehon then places a cup in front of each of us. I pick up the tea with a grateful nod before taking a sip.
When the steam fogs my spectacles, I can’t help but laugh. It’s been a while since they’ve done that. It reminds me of better days.
Safer days.
They used to fog up all the time when Analla and I would have a cup of tea on our balcony that overlooked the canal. The air would be crisp and cool enough for a thick sweater.
“My people say they saw that sorcerer friend of yours fighting off attackers that looked like assassins,” Queen Xiaodera says after a short sip of tea. “Do you know who they were?”
I glance at Algar. He bobs his head, insisting that I tell the truth. “They were coming after him…our friend. I believe they’re with the Grim.”
She narrows her eyes a bit. “So he carries trouble?”
I notice King Jehon’s hand curling into a fist on the table.
“They’ve been tracking him, but we can’t figure out why,” Algar tells her. “We’ve asked, but he won’t tell us what they want.”
That’s not all true, of course. He told me, but there’s no way I’m about to inform the queen about his past or the links to Seferin. He looks trouble enough, and she clearly knows he’s dangerous. She has no proof, but I’m certain she could find some if she really wanted to.
“So, he puts all of your lives in danger because he doesn’t care to share why he’s being hunted by a group of deadly people?” Queen Xiaodera scoffs as she sits back in her chair. “Wisest thing to do would be to leave him in the infirmary and carry on without him, no?”