chapter nine #2
Though old, he’s strong and agile, like a warrior, with his steel-gray hair neatly cropped at the sides and the rest pulled back into a topknot.
Despite his age, his skin has a healthy golden glow, a stark contrast to the bloated skin and pallid complexions of the three men.
I also notice that his ears have that slight point to them, telling me he’s Reān rather than human.
Although he wears simple clothes—a dark brown hooded robe belted at the waist and a leather pouch on his hip—his commanding aura is nothing but, and I instinctively lower my gaze in submission.
“A wolf.” I sign. Old habits die hard. I’m not even considering the option to use my voice in front of this man of importance.
When he remains silent, I cautiously steal a glance at him through my lowered lashes. His head is tilted like he’s trying to figure me out, and he’s munching on what looks to be a bag of nuts. Perhaps he’s not accustomed to sign language. I take a chance, speaking out loud.
“It was a wolf,” I say, my voice no louder than a whisper. And after a moment’s pause, I add, “Who are you?”
“Ah, so you do have a voice.” His own is warm, carrying none of the condescending tone I’m so used to. “I am Ero,” he says. “And you?”
“La?na.” I lift my gaze.
“I am delighted to meet you, La?na,” he says with a wide smile that reveals his canines, then adds a bow.
I blink. That’s a first.
“Walk with me.” Confident I will follow, he strolls off toward the river.
Should I? A part of me wants to continue on alone, painfully aware that he might be another trap, his kind manners a carefully constructed facade.
The other part recognizes that it may be just as dangerous to continue on alone.
With no fighting skills, I am defenseless if someone—or something—decides to get me.
I take one last look around the blood-soaked site and decide to take him up on his offer.
“Are you alone?” I ask once I catch up to him.
“I was,” he says. “Now you are here.”
I shoot him a sideways glance. Maybe following him wasn’t such a wise choice after all.
“To be alone is not such a bad thing,” he continues.
“One may be the lowest of numbers, but it offers within it everything: Fulfillment. Completion. Oneness.” He smiles at me.
“The trouble starts when the loneness is interrupted by a second or even a third number, think you not?” He tilts his head at me in that peculiar way again.
“Sure . . .” It comes out more like a question, my brows pulling together at his enigmatic way of speaking.
“Thought so.” He nods to himself.
We walk in silence for a good while, him in front and me behind, the only sound his cheerful whistle as we make our way down the river.
Rays of light drip through emerald leaves, dappling the mossy forest floor.
It makes my feet bounce with each soft step.
Inhaling the sweet scent of flowers and damp earth, I sigh.
It’ll be all right, I promise myself. Someday.
“The skylight makes everything so beautiful,” I say, mostly to say something.
Ero turns toward me, an amused expression on his face. “Skylight?”
I gesture toward the rays filtering through the canopy.
He chuckles. “You mean the sunlight?”
I shrug. How am I supposed to know what it’s called? “I guess so.”
“There is no need to be embarrassed,” he says.
“It is a good name. It is light. And it comes from the sky.” He picks one of the many flowers growing on the vines that snake around the wide trunks of the trees, spinning it between his fingers.
“Besides, noticing such intricate details as a dewdrop clinging to a blade of grass, or the way sunlight filters through leaves, is a true gift. Do not let it go.” With a smile, he nestles the sweet-smelling flower behind my ear.
Flinching at his touch, I start to pull back, but then a gentle warmth flows through me, quieting the fear, as if the air itself is soothing.
“There.” He pats my cheek, then turns and continues walking.
Fingers brushing the petals of the flower, I stare at his back as we walk down the river.
Are all Reāns like this? He has such a calming presence, it’s almost tangible.
And it’s as if I keep forgetting how close I was to losing my life before he showed up.
Every time I try bringing the wolf encounter to the forefront, it slips like a piece of soap in wet hands.
Is he using magic on me? The thought turns my stomach, but Llyr mentioned Reā has lots of magic, so I don’t dismiss it entirely.
“Why did the wolf kill the three men but leave me alone?” I finally manage to sort my thoughts enough to ask the question.
“It knows you,” he says matter-of-factly, as if that makes any sense.
“Knows me as what, exactly?”
“That is for you to know.” He goes back to his happy whistling.
I scowl at him. So much for getting any answers. We continue on in silence once more, and I wonder if he has any particular destination in mind. Father willing, he will bring me to a settlement. The possibility of a real future makes my heart beat faster.
“I wonder . . .” I start.
“Wise decision, that. Wisdom begins in wonder.” Ero points to a brown shell on the forest floor—it looks like a large nut.
He hits his staff over the top of it until it cracks, revealing a type of vivid purple fruit inside.
“See? If I had not wondered what would be inside that otherwise mundane shell, I would never have found it.” He parts the fruit in two with his hands and offers me half of it.
“Right . . .” I say, taking the piece of fruit, my mouth instantly watering. It smells delicious.
“So, what was it you were wondering?” he says, his eyebrows raised in an inquisitive arc.
“I wonder if you know where the nearest settlement is?” I say.
“I do,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.
“Well, would you care to let me know?”
“I would.”
“And where is it?” Forcing a smile, I do my best to stay civil, but my voice betrays my frustration.
“At the mouth of this river.” He taps my head with his staff. “There are great powers in words, La?na. Be careful how you put them together.”
“You make no sense,” I mutter, studying the strange piece of fruit in my hand. I bite into the soft flesh. It's sweet and tangy, unlike anything I've tasted before.
“Who said I need to make sense?” He cocks his head again. “The one who can laugh and appreciate the many absurdities of life is more likely to find enlightenment than the person burdened with seriousness.”
“Well, not everyone is born with that luxury,” I snap, but Ero simply blinks and appears as peaceful as ever.
Wiping the sweet fruit juice off my face, I shake my head and gesture for him to continue walking.
“Why don’t you tell me something useful?” I say, walking up next to him. “Like . . .” I pause. “The settlement down the river. Can you tell me what I need to know before I get there?”
He studies me for a moment. “You seem to know very little, so no, I cannot.” He chuckles at his own joke.
This man. I roll my eyes at him. “Just tell me something that’s good to know, then.”
He considers my request for some time. “It is named Bowen,” he finally says.
“And it is more of a city. In fact, it is the capital of the province of Tierra—that is where we are right now—and it is located at the mouth of the Teine, which is this river”—he points with his staff toward the river—“if you were wondering. Which I assume you were. You seem to be wondering a lot. Which, of course, as I stated previously, is a good thing. Especially when you do not know much. Which you do not.” He chuckles again.
“However”—he spins to face me, staff lifted—“as long as you know that you know nothing, you are wiser than most indeed.”
I lift my arms, only to have them drop with an exasperated sigh. I don’t understand half of what he’s rambling about. “Are you always this difficult?” I blurt before I can control myself.
“No,” he says matter-of-factly. “But I must admit, I find your frustration rather amusing.”
I gape at him, then snap my mouth shut before he can make another rude comment.
“Do not dismiss the wisdom in my words though, La?na. It may all sound like nonsense to you, but they are all truths. You know what is good to know?”
His auburn eyes, flecked with gold like sunset embers, pin me in place. A profound, captivating depth, like centuries of wisdom, dwells within them. How old is this man?
“There is much to be wary of, but the C’elēn hold the true power in these lands.” He stomps his staff on the earth for emphasis. “And the C’elēn,” he says, “cannot lie. But”—he holds up a finger—“they are experts at twisting truths. Never forget that.”
A knot forms in my belly. “Are you one of them?”
“I . . . am an ealdorman,” he says, raising his staff again, as if that should explain it.
I open my mouth to ask what an ealdorman is, but he chooses that moment to stick his tongue out, gazing toward the sky.
“We will have rain.” He nods to himself. “Come now. Let us proceed before it gets too bad.”
I frown up at the blue sky. Really?
When I don’t immediately move, he begins shepherding me down the path.
“If you are to make it in time for Sa’mahtā, you better start to move those pretty feet of yours.
” Eyeing the worn-out shoes peeking out from under my long skirts, he adds, “Though I do admit your choice of shoes could use an upgrade.” Before I’ve had a chance to reply, he thrusts his small bag of nuts into my face. “Want some?”
I frown down at the small paper bag, somehow still full of nuts. How is that even possible? He’s been munching on it for bells.
“No, thank you,” I say as I fall into step behind him. I sigh. This will be a long walk.