chapter twenty-four
THE TRAIL THROUGH THE WOODS has led me steadily northwest for three days now, and I’m on constant lookout for the border into the Common Territories that run between Airée, Kabar, and Chì.
I slump forward in the saddle. The last days were spent in a state of high alert, scanning for Kabarians, while the nights brought nothing but agonizing pain and restless sleep, broken only by a few bells of fitful rest before dawn.
I hold on to Maeve’s saddle, allowing myself to close my eyes, if only for a brief moment.
The dizziness comes more often now, and the perpetual movement and lack of sleep don’t help.
Why can’t I find the border? Should I have been going more toward the north?
But then again, I can recall that Kabar has a northern coastline from the map hanging in the grand hall at the Arc, and I don’t want to end up there.
So I continue to follow the narrow trail, choosing to trust that Ero knew what he was doing when he sent me down this path.
Clutching my side, I wince as a stabbing pain radiates through my body. My wound is still bleeding steadily, and this morning the edges of the wound were black. It’s clear that it’s infected, but I have no clue what to do about it.
You need a healer, La?na. But where can I find one? I’m in the middle of nowhere, with not the slightest hint of a settlement anywhere.
Overcome by a sudden surge of dizziness, I sway in the saddle, struggling to maintain my grip on the pommel.
This is not good. I squint against the strong sunlight, cursing it for hurting my eyes.
Then I realize the forest must be thinning.
I’ve barely felt the sun on my face for days.
My heart picks up speed. I must be nearing the end of the path!
A couple bells later, a smile breaks across my face despite my weary state as Maeve and I cross what I believe to be the border into the Common Territories.
I pat her neck. “We made it, girl.” This far, at least.
Maeve all but dances along the dusty path, appearing relieved to have left the bushes behind.
“Easy, girl. I’m injured, remember?” I gently pull back on her reins, breathing a sigh of relief as she complies. I don’t think I would have kept my seat in the saddle otherwise.
Leaning my cheek on her neck, I do my best to get some rest while she walks. It has become increasingly hard to stay upright. I need a healer. And a bed. And rest. Preferably yesterday.
Then a discomforting thought strikes me. Does anyone live in the Common Territories? Or is it simply an empty spot of land to protect the realms from attacking one another? I add it to my book of ignorance. Ero is right: I don’t know very much, and what I do know is less than useful.
I close my eyes again, too tired to keep them open, and even though I vaguely notice how I start to slide to the right, out of the saddle, I’m too tired to fight it.
“THE LASS IS WAKING.”
I blink my eyes open, staring into the friendly face of an elderly human lady.
“Where am I?” I push myself upright and stare down at my half-naked body. My wound has been cleaned, and I’ve got a proper bandage now. The sound of heavy footsteps approaches, and I can hear the rumbling of a deep male voice, and I hurriedly pull the covers up toward my chin.
“C’mon in, young lad. The lass will wake up anytime now.
Good thing you got her here in time. Nasty wound she got there, that is.
Nasty wound indeed. You did quite right bringing her here.
My Sara is as good a healer as they come.
Save those Reān magicians. No offense, of course .
. .” The man trails off as he enters the room.
His old face, etched with the lines of a life spent outside, crinkles into a mostly toothless grin upon seeing me awake, his eyes disappearing into a sea of wrinkles.
“How did I—” My sentence stops short at the sight of Reü in the doorway. Two thoughts follow in quick succession: Is that who the man was talking to? Followed by, What’s he doing here? I narrow my eyes at him, voicing the latter. “What are you doing here?” My voice comes out less than friendly.
Fidgeting with the buttons on his coat, he glances toward the old couple before his gaze settles on me. “Good to see you too, La?na.”
“He told us he was a friend of yours,” the old man says, his gaze jumping between the two of us. “Isn’t that correct, Sara? He said he was her friend, right?”
The woman, Sara, nods, her gaze wary. “He told us he knew you.”
“He didn’t lie,” I say to her, although I wouldn’t exactly call us friends. “But that still doesn’t explain why you are here.” I stare at Reü.
“It was a lucky coincidence, to be honest,” he says with a shrug as he walks over to sit on my bedside.
“You really gave me a scare there, La?na.” He grabs hold of my hand.
“I was on my way to the Eldenpillars when Maeve came running toward me down the road. She’s such a beauty.
I would have recognized her anywhere, but you were nowhere to be seen.
I grabbed her reins, of course, taking her with me, and then .
. .” He appears shaken. “Then I saw someone in the ditch, and it was you.” His teal-blue eyes are wide when his gaze meets mine.
“You were unconscious, and you were bleeding from an infected wound on your stomach. I was unsure if you would live at all.”
I give him a sharp look. When did he get so concerned about my well-being?
I study his face. Either he’s a very good actor or he’s actually sincere.
He sounds sincere. I scrutinize his face for any hint of dishonesty, but there are no telltale signs.
Still, can I truly place my trust in him?
After all, he’s the keeper’s nephew, and my experience so far is that he has faithfully followed every instruction given by Marduk.
“Well, then I suppose a thank-you is in order,” I say stiffly. “But I’m afraid I can’t come with you.”
“Oh no,” Sara says quickly. “You cannot be on your own right now, miss.” She’s speaking so fast she almost stumbles across her words.
“But this young Reān gentleman has promised to provide for you until you are better.” She gestures toward Reü.
“I may be an experienced healer, but your wound is infected with magic, miss. You will need a healer who wields elēn.” She nods. “Yes, a C’elēn healer would be best.”
“I guess I’ll go with you to the Eldenpillars, then,” I say to Reü. Wherever that is, it must be in the opposite direction of the Arc, if that’s where he was headed. “There will be a C’elēn who can heal there, I’m sure, and it must be closer than Caelēn?”
Reü opens his mouth to answer, but the lady beats him to it. “Oh, it is. It is.” She wrings her apron between her hands. “It is not far at all, miss. A couple days at the most.”
Reü seems displeased but says nothing. How informed is he about my future? Does he want to bring me back to the Arc?
I offer him a sweet smile. “Then it’s settled.
” I don’t have the faintest idea what the Eldenpillars are, but anything is preferable to risking my life traveling through Kabarian lands again, or worse, ending up back at the Arc.
If the path deviates too much from where I have to go, I’ll find a way to slip away.
“Of course.” He straightens and flashes me a bright smile. “Let me get our bags ready so we can be on our way as soon as possible.” He places a hand on my shoulder. “Meanwhile, why don’t you eat something?”
I narrow my eyes at him. I’ve never seen him smile before, and his bright demeanor only serves to increase my distrust in him. Something about his smile just looks . . . wrong. And why hasn’t he asked me why I left? His casual demeanor in the face of everything is nothing if not unsettling.
A short while later, we’re on our way—Reü up front on his palomino mare, while I trail behind on Maeve. He has insisted that Maeve be tied to his horse so “I don’t have to strain myself by steering her.” I sigh. I shouldn’t have been so hostile toward him. He’s trying to help, after all.
“I’m sorry,” I say to his back. He’s been kind, and if it’s true, as he says, if he found me there in the ditch by coincidence, I should consider myself lucky.
That ditch could have been my grave, or someone more sinister could have found me.
“I don’t mean to come across as ungrateful,” I say.
“You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and you don’t deserve that.
It’s not your fault I’m injured and need to be taken care of. ”
He turns around in his saddle. “Apology accepted,” he says with a shrug. Then he adds, “About that wound. How did you get it? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
His question shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it still catches me off guard.
Naturally, he’s curious about how I got it.
My mind starts racing in an attempt to conjure up a believable explanation while avoiding any mention of the Void Father hurling daggers at me in my dreams. That would undoubtedly result in a relentless onslaught of questions.
“Let’s just say humans aren’t welcome in Kabar,” I say with a wry smile.
“Ah, yes, unfortunately, that’s the truth.
” He seems to buy the explanation. “We—meaning the C’elēn—have tried to negotiate a treaty, but”—he shrugs—“they are not very interested, as you may have noticed.” He offers me a wry smile in return, and then his face grows serious once more.
“I’m surprised you’re still here if a Kabarian came at you.
You should consider yourself lucky that’s the only wound you got.
Void, you should consider yourself lucky to still be alive.
” He turns his face forward again. “They are not known to use poisoned daggers though.”