Chapter 7
Gaeren, Cyrus, and Riveran spent more than a week writing and sending out more letters. When they had only a single batch of letters left, Gaeren woke with his stomach as nauseous as that of a landlubber at sea. After delivering them, it would be time to return to Vendaras.
After they ate porridge cooked and sweetened by Cyrus’ admirer, they gathered up the last of the letters and bound them in burlap sacks. Before the second bell, they had their horses loaded.
“Who’s that?” Riveran asked. Gullet squawked from his shoulder as Cyrus and Gaeren turned to take in a lone figure crossing over the gate’s threshold.
“I’m not sure,” Cyrus said. “Probably just a worshiper if the guards let them in.”
Gaeren huffed. “Your priests and priestesses let anyone in if they say they’re there to worship the Stars. Which makes no sense this time of day.” He gestured toward the clear blue sky, void of Stars.
“What would you rather we did?” Cyrus asked.
Gaeren didn’t bother answering. The humans in Lorvandas weren’t under the same stresses of politics and war. They weren’t as wary of strangers, which was both refreshing and dangerous. Gaeren turned back to their horses, checking over their hooves and tack.
“Stars’ greetings!” a voice called out.
They turned once more and found the stranger headed their way.
“Stars’ blessings in return,” Cyrus said. “Can we help you with something?”
“I was told there were some men here looking for me.”
Gaeren started, then took in the familiar eyes and nose on the unfamiliar face. A scar pocked the man’s forehead and another ran down his cheek. Long dark hair grew to his shoulders, and weathered skin spoke of a hard life.
“Rildan?” Gaeren whispered.
The man’s lips twisted in a scowl, but before anyone could guess what might have upset him, he pulled out a dagger and lunged at Gaeren.
Despite the surprise attack, Gaeren dodged the stranger easily, and with help from Riveran and Cyrus, he quickly got the older man on the ground, smothering his face in the grass.
Riveran gripped the man’s wrists so tightly they turned red and puffy, and the stranger sputtered out a mouth full of soil.
“Who are you?” Cyrus asked.
“A fool,” the man muttered.
“Why did you attack me?” Gaeren asked.
“I was told you were looking for me. And that you had my daughter.” He spat the last word out while attempting to jerk his hands from Riveran’s grip.
Gaeren stilled. “We’re looking for you on behalf of your daughter, but we aren’t holding her.”
All the tension eased from the stranger’s limbs. “Then where is she?”
“Across the barrier,” Gaeren said.
“How?”
“She found the golden arrow,” Cyrus said. “It was held here in the Stargazer for years, just like you asked.”
Rildan sighed, letting his cheek rest against the grass. Riveran tentatively released his grip, but Rildan made no move to attack.
“When Aeliana came for the arrow, her kidnappers were with her,” Cyrus continued. “They took her across the barrier. I went, too, and that’s where we met up with Sylmar and Velden.”
Rildan turned over and sat up, grass stains covering his clothes and dirt smudged on his cheeks. But the lost expression on his face was far more pitiful.
“I take it Sylmar’s conversion was genuine?” Rildan asked.
Gaeren frowned. “He’s been leading a faction of Recreants for years, but I suppose he’d just left Mayvus when you last saw him.”
Rildan nodded. “I didn’t trust him, but Emeris did. She was always better at reading people. Her pneumatic skills gave her an unfair advantage.” The features of his face smoothed out as the hint of a smile crept across his lips. “She’ll be sure to inform me she was right if I ever see her again.”
“Good,” Gaeren said. “I’ll enjoy watching her rub that in.”
Rildan’s neck cracked as he glanced sharply up at Gaeren. “Are you saying—can we cross the barrier?”
Gaeren reached in his pocket and pulled out the humming golden arrow as an answer.
Rildan’s eyes closed, and his entire body slumped. A whispered word came out on a sigh, but Gaeren couldn’t catch it. The vulnerability gave Gaeren courage to voice his own questions.
“Do you remember me?” Gaeren asked. “From when I was a child?”
Rildan’s eyes fluttered open, then narrowed.
“You look far different than I remember,” Gaeren said, “but I suppose I’ve changed as well. I’ve grown a few feet.”
“Henri?” Rildan’s jaw went slack.
Gaeren winced. “Yes, I guess that’s the lie you would remember as well.”
A guttural noise escaped Rildan’s throat. Nothing like the lighthearted laugh Gaeren remembered from his youth.
“Yet one more instance in which Emeris was right,” Rildan said. “She suspected your identity was false. But was she right about you being the prince?”
Gaeren shrugged sheepishly. “One and the same.” He reached out a hand toward Rildan, and after a moment’s hesitation, Rildan grasped it, allowing Gaeren to pull him to his feet.
Rildan turned to Cyrus and Riveran, his gaze lingering on Gullet. “How exactly did you all end up here?”
“I’m from Gahldric Valley. Name’s Cyrus.” Cyrus stuck out a hand, and Rildan grasped his forearm. “But I intend to go back to help Aeliana. And to study the Vendaran faith more.” He brushed a hand over his priest’s robes.
“And I’ve been searching for Daisy ever since you all disappeared,” Gaeren said.
“Daisy.” Rildan’s eyes lit up at the nickname, making Gaeren realize he’d let it slip after weeks of using her given name. “You two were thick as thieves.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t anticipate finding out she was part of the Wyndren family.”
Rildan grimaced. “I suppose that put a damper on your desire to find an old friend.”
“Not exactly.” Gaeren grinned. “My first mate has been slowly converting me to a Recreant for the last five or six years. I’m not eager for my family to be in danger, but I can’t ignore their corruption.”
Rildan’s brow raised, but he turned to Riveran instead. “Are you his first mate?”
“No. My name’s Riveran. I’m just an old friend along for the ride.” Riveran held out his hands as if to prove he had nothing to hide even though his cap still covered the X on his forehead. “I’m not really sure how Gaeren always tangles me up in his adventures.”
“How did you get separated from Dai-Aeliana?” Gaeren asked. “Or better yet, how did you survive? I saw them stab you before you used the arrow.”
Rildan winced. “We landed on Lorvandas’ eastern shore. I threw the arrow into the woods, hoping they’d go after it, but they took Aeliana with them, leaving me for dead.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t take Aeliana and the arrow,” Gaeren said.
“They probably would have, except it takes time for a starbridge to recharge in the Sun’s light.
After being used, they could have stepped on it and never found it because it held no hum.
So instead, they ran. A healer found me and patched me up.
By the time I was ready for travel, their trail had gone cold, but at least I found the starbridge.
I wasn’t willing to bring it near Arvid and Vera in case they took Aeliana back without me.
So I left it with a priestess named Della and tried hunting them down. ”
Cyrus blinked and fiddled with his horse’s bridle. “Gams.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe she kept that secret all that time.”
“So why are you looking for me?” Rildan asked. “Why didn’t Aeliana come? Or Emeris?”
“They’re both fine,” Gaeren was quick to say, then he winced. “Well, Emeris was injured in our fight against Mayvus, but Aeliana and another healer are taking care of her.”
A mix of emotions crossed Rildan’s face. “Aeliana’s a progeny, then?”
Cyrus grinned. “One of the most powerful.”
Rildan’s face paled. “Which is why Mayvus wanted her. Even as a child. What happened?”
The others exchanged glances.
“You’ve missed a lot,” Gaeren said. “Why don’t you come inside, and we can tell you everything.”
After they got the horses settled back in the stable and dumped their sacks of letters back in the chancery, it took far longer than Gaeren wanted for Cyrus to catch Rildan up on Aeliana’s trek across Vendaras with Sylmar and the Recreants.
Every bone in Gaeren’s body itched to use the golden arrow and return home, but he sensed the other man needed answers before he was willing to go with them.
“Do you want me to show you the rest?” Gaeren asked, holding out his hands.
Rildan raised his eyebrows. “You have Emeris’ gifting?”
“It’s my opposite spoke, so it won’t be like the memories you’ve gotten from her, but it’ll do the job.”
Rildan hesitated, but there was a gleam in his eye that made Gaeren think the older man missed this form of his wife’s magic.
“Yes.” Rildan placed his hands in Gaeren’s. “Show me.”
Gaeren closed his eyes, and instead of tuning in to Rildan’s memories, he picked through his own, starting with the memory of how they’d all met in the Islaran ruins, including how Aeliana had saved Durriken.
He nudged them in Rildan’s direction, knowing they’d grow clouded and blurry with Gaeren’s unrefined skill.
He rushed through their journey toward the Myndren Mountains before tuning in to the details of Emeris’ rescue and their messy success in getting Aeliana’s blood back from Mayvus, knowing those elements were what would matter to Rildan the most.
When he pulled back from the memory, Rildan’s face seemed older, graver, but he nodded with satisfaction.
“And you’re certain Mayvus is dead?” Rildan dropped Gaeren’s hands but picked up the last of his bread, tearing off a small piece to nibble on.
Gaeren flinched. “I don’t see how anyone could’ve survived that.”
“What needs to be done here before we can leave?” Rildan asked.
Gaeren’s heart beat a little faster. “Nothing.”
“I’d like to wait to say goodbye to Gamps,” Cyrus said. “The last time I left, I wasn’t able to, and then he watched Gams die. I can’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“Of course.” Gaeren was quick to agree. It was the least they could do after all the ways Bartholem had helped them.
“He won’t be up for a few hours.” Cyrus’ voice rang with an apology.
“That gives us time to plan,” Rildan said.
Gaeren nodded his assent with the others, but it was a half-truth. He’d already been planning their next move for the last two moons.
By the time Bartholem woke, Gaeren had equipped each of them with weapons he’d stashed in his rooms. They had sacks of food from the new priestess-in-training, who blushed as she handed Cyrus additional sweets.
In order to avoid onlookers, Bartholem temporarily closed off the Stargazer, only allowing the priests and priestesses to remain to witness such a holy event.
Holy or not, Gaeren agreed it was an exciting thing to watch.
Tears filled Bartholem’s eyes as he hugged Cyrus goodbye. He spoke a blessing over the four of them, then sat back on one of the Stargazer’s benches, his eyes wide with wonder.
Gaeren handed the golden arrow to Cyrus. “I still don’t know how to say the words.”
Cyrus grinned. “It’s nice to finally be necessary to something all you magical people are doing.
” He gripped the arrow in his right hand, then held Riveran’s hand in his left.
The rest of them continued linking arms, and Gaeren braced himself for the disorienting experience of using a starbridge to travel across the barrier.
As Cyrus uttered the foreign words, the expected hum of the arrow intensified and passed through them all like a crack of thunder.
The room filled with light, and Bartholem’s awed face faded from view.
A weightlessness took over Gaeren’s body, and his anchor to the earth dissipated.
He tried to blink away the brightness but only saw it more on the backs of his lids.
When his feet once more hit dirt, he stumbled, catching himself on bamboo shoots dotting the soil.
A salty sea scent met his nose, and thick air coated his skin.
He sucked in a deep breath, relishing the way the salt always reminded him of Aeliana as a child—as Daisy.
A small sob escaped Rildan’s throat from beside him. “I’m back,” the older man whispered. He fell to his knees and dropped his face to the ground, inhaling deeply.
The heartfelt moment was broken by Riveran turning to the side and puking.
Gaeren laughed and patted him on the back a little too hard.
“Never thought you would be one to get sick from travel. You always seemed hardy enough on the sea.” He’d teased his friend mercilessly after the last time they’d used the arrow and Riveran had thrown up all over the first group of people they’d found.
Riveran glared up at him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just you wait; one of these days we’ll find your weakness, and I’ll be sure to exploit it.”
Cyrus pulled Rildan to his feet, then they all spun to take in the view of the wild jungle canopies on one side and the view of the sea on the other.
A gap in the trees revealed the scorched remains of Bamboo Island, the surface desolated by Durriken moons prior.
New growth attempted to hide the destruction, but it mostly looked unchanged from the last time Gaeren had seen it.
“It’s exactly where it dropped us before.” Cyrus said the words in awe but shuddered, likely remembering his previous experience—with Arvid and Vera present—far differently.
“This is where it dropped me the first time I used it, too,” Rildan said. “I never thought the dusty golden arrow on a Stargazer’s shelf could take me to Vendaras or that I’d live among half-lights. I was only here a handful of years, but I’ve been chasing that feeling of ‘home’ ever since.”
“It already feels like we’re so much closer,” Gaeren said.
“We are.” Riveran’s face still held a greenish tint. “Several hundred miles closer.”
They all grinned at each other as if they’d accomplished that task with their own skill, but then movement caught Gaeren’s attention.
The crow’s nest of an unfamiliar black ship rose from the ocean to the right, its dark mast and bow coming into full view as it rounded the shoreline and nearly ran aground.
Before he could warn the others to duck out of sight, a shout came from the ship.
“Maybe they didn’t see us,” Cyrus said as they all drew back within the foliage.
“Four men ashore!” A distant call confirmed the opposite.
Rildan grimaced. “Maybe they’re friendly.”
A strangled cackle drifted across the water. “Bring ’em in!”