Chapter 7 #2
He’d lived a thousand lives already, and the only interesting thing she’d ever seen was a dragon—once.
It dipped in and out of the clouds on its way north, black scales shimmering as it soared through the sky.
Teegan had told her she’d just imagined it, as dragons never came that far south, but Orelia knew the truth.
And gems the size of perrin eggs? She’d seen a picture of an egg as white as snow and knew the birds—who only lived in the Five Points mountain range—laid eggs the size of her head. Orelia couldn’t even begin to predict how much a gem that size must be worth.
“Surely you’ve seen interesting ships living in a port village,” Vade said, half-interested.
“Not really. But I spent most of my time in the brothel and not at the docks, so it’s possible I missed them.”
His sharpening hand froze. “You were a whore?”
Orelia gritted her teeth at the word. “I healed the girls who worked there. I didn’t work as one of them.”
“Ah.” He looked her over with a neutral expression. “That makes more sense.”
Another insult she ignored. “What else have you seen?”
Vade turned his attention to the sky. “I’ve seen a man with tentacles for arms and a pirate with knives for fingers. I’ve seen a woman who could wield two blades so fast you couldn’t even see them moving, and sands so black they absorb all light and melt flesh from bone.”
She perked up. That explained how he had a Kevarian daydial. “You’ve been to the Blacksands?”
“Brutal place. Stunning gemstone mines, but I don’t know how the people live in such a hellscape. Particularly the Riders.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know one of the Riders. Well . . .knew is probably the better word.”
He chuckled. “You know one of the notorious jewel thieves? Yeah, right.”
Orelia shifted uncomfortably, hating how small his words made her feel, like she couldn’t possibly be worldly enough to know anything other than her tiny fishing village.
The stars had come alive in the purple night, and she wondered if Tommen was looking at those same stars now.
She wondered if he thought about her at all, or if greed had consumed his thoughts entirely.
“That right there is why I will never let myself believe in such stupidity.” Vade’s harsh words cut through her thoughts.
“What?”
He pointed his knife at her. “That look on your face. That’s what love does to people.”
She blinked. “Wh—, how could you tell?”
The arrogance that accompanied his laugh made her feel even smaller, and she curled into herself.
Black eyes looked her over like he was calculating her worth with a sweep of his gaze. “Love makes you weak. Don’t waste your time on it.”
Surely he wasn’t speaking from experience. As if someone could ever love a man like him. “I doubt you’ve ever dared to love someone,” Orelia mumbled into her knees.
A crude smile curved his lips. “I fuck. I don’t love.”
She went back to watching the fire, no longer interested in conversing with a person who would never understand what it was like to care about someone other than himself.
She’d never regretted loving Tommen, for even though he became someone she no longer knew, she would always have the memories of who he was.
Of the boy who laughed a little too loud and playfully teased her.
Of the one who held her when she fell apart after healing another broken girl.
The one who taught her to sword fight and loved her on the riverbank with only the moon as a witness.
She remembered. She always would.
The stars twinkled, as if they remembered too.
Orelia awoke feeling like she’d slept on rocks.
Every muscle ached as she sat up on her bedroll, squinting from the morning sun. She wouldn’t give Vade the satisfaction of knowing he was right and that she should have moved her bedding, so Orelia discreetly stretched out her incredibly sore back, stifling her groans.
She rubbed her eyes, able to see Vade pushing something around in a pot over the fire looking fresh-faced and well-rested.
Orelia threw off the threadbare blanket she’d brought. The crisp morning air was a welcome relief, but a thin layer of sweat had formed on her skin overnight, and her linen chemise had yet to soak it up.
Now that she was awake, the ache in her muscles subsided as her healing worked its magic, and her green eyes eventually adjusted to the light, allowing her to see the ward still floating around them like sea fog.
After checking herself over in the handheld mirror she’d brought, Orelia tugged her boots on over her socks and tied her chaotic hair in a knot high on her head, forgoing her comb and hair scarf. “Can you remove the ward so I can go relieve myself, please?” she asked, a bit embarrassed.
Vade stirred eggs in the pot, working them into white and yellow chunks. “For safety reasons, I’m not removing it until we leave. If you need to go, do it in here.”
“You must be joking.”
The spoon clanged against the metal siding as he focused on his work. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
The diameter of the ward was an effortless distance to be able to hear someone handling their business. “That’s preposterous. I’m not going in here where you can hear me.”
He spooned the eggs onto two giant leaves not belonging to any tree she knew of, each as long as his forearm. “Hurry up before breakfast gets cold.”
His tone could not have been more apathetic, so she blew out a breath and headed for the furthest tree at the edge of the ward.
Orelia squeezed her eyes shut as she tended to her needs, praying he couldn’t hear anything.
It’s just water in a babbling brook, she told herself, though it didn’t lessen the humiliating warmth blooming in her cheeks.
When she made it back to camp, Vade was on his last bite. He’d set her leaf on a rock beside him, and the eggs already looked cold.
“Do you have another fork?” she asked, taking a seat next to him.
It had to have only been a mark past sunrise. Far too early for him to be glaring so severely. “I didn’t exactly plan on gaining company when I went to your shitty village, so no, I don’t have an extra fork.”
Orelia glared back. “Are you always this grouchy in the morning?”
“Yes.”
The cold eggs went down easily enough as she fumbled them into her mouth with her fingers, surprised he had even made some for her.
Vade pulled a square piece of parchment from his pocket and unfolded it. She caught a glimpse of a hand drawn compass sitting in The Azurean Ocean east of the continent.
“Where was it you said we were stopping today?” she asked.
“Dallton.”
“How far is that?”
“A full day’s walk.”
Her muscles already ached. Orelia shoveled more eggs into her mouth, remembering something she’d thought of as she was falling asleep. “Why were you in Minro? Did you have another name before—”
“Before you struck me with your spell?”
Did he practice his sneer or did it just come naturally? Orelia nodded.
Vade scratched at his beard. “I had a name somewhere close by. After I was done, I headed into town to grab a meal. I saw your water pump as I passed and planned to top off my waterskin, not realizing you were hiding behind the bushes.”
“I wasn’t hiding. I was gardening.”
“You mean, you were failing to cast a spell correctly?” he said in a snarky tone.
She snapped. “How many times do you want me to apologize?”
He folded his map and stood. “Let’s start with every day. How about that?”
The man’s smugness infuriated her. Orelia finished her breakfast, then slipped behind a cluster of trees and changed into a long sleeve shirt and skirt, vowing to be more careful so today’s outfit wouldn’t get ruined.
When she emerged, Vade had just finished buckling his weapons belt around his waist. He sent a wave of shadow over the campfire, and the darkness hovered for a few seconds, seeming to choke out the flames.
When he lifted both arms, the ward trembled before leisurely seeping into his fingertips and disappearing.
Sound returned to her ears in a fury—birds, insects, branches rustling in the wind. She pressed a shoulder to her ear. It hurt to listen to them.
“Let’s go,” Vade said, slinging his pack over his shoulder.
She followed him, fingers wrapped around the straps of her pack, steps light as her excitement grew.
Thankfully, the forest was mostly flat, with only the occasional fallen tree they’d have to step over.
The lush grass provided a soft footing as they made their way northwest, and Orelia spent the first part of their trek wondering what Dallton was like.
She envisioned its people and its architecture, while anticipating the joy of a new place.
But she could only use her imagination in silence for so long.
“If you travel all over Nivinia why don’t you ride a horse?” she called out. “Or do you fly?” She shrank a little, realizing if he did fly, he couldn’t now because she was tagging along.
“Flying isn’t discreet,” he said, facing forward so she had to strain to hear him.
Orelia hiked up her skirt so it wouldn’t catch on the vines curling across the ground. “Then why don’t you ride a horse? Surely you could cover more ground much faster.”
He didn’t respond for a few seconds, then said, “Because I don’t.”
Another non-answer.
“Can you explain how you got a sorcerer to make those weapons and that stone for you?” Orelia asked. Genuinely curious, but also to make conversation.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said no.”
She caught his hands balling into fists but disregarded the motion. “Do you only use them to kill the people that appear on the stone?” Was being struck by a seidr weapon different from other kinds? Why were they lighter than steel ones?
Vade tilted his head and scanned the woods, taking way too long to respond.
“I’m not going to stop asking until you tell me.” Orelia was not about to be quiet the entire way to Dallton.
He growled, and though she sensed not to press, she did anyway. He would have to get over her asking questions.
“Please tell me.”
“No,” he snapped.
“Can you give me more than one-word answers?”
“No.”
She glared at the back of his head, as if that would do anything. Orelia watched his knot of bark-colored hair bob with a few more steps before she spoke again.
“Can I at least see the map?”
Vade whirled, looking like he wanted to throttle her. “If it’ll get you to shut up, then fine.” He pulled the parchment out of his pocket and shoved it into her chest.
Orelia drifted back behind him, mumbling about how rude he was, and carefully opened the worn yellow paper. Morton had a map of the continent hanging on the wall in his apothecary, but not one this elaborate.
Words and symbols were written in black ink over almost every village, town, and city. Next to Dorsey were the words ‘silver’ and ‘porridge’ along with a drawing of what she thought was a palm tree, and a black star on the northern side of the tropical city.
Ricaboro was marked with a few words she couldn’t make out, and there was another star drawn on the east side of the city near the bay where she knew The White Pony stood.
Of course he had it marked.
Her eyes went to the fae. He moved like a river drifting through a centuries-old wood.
Dark water easing around every object in its way, adapting to uncertainty.
Surprisingly light-footed, his large boots absorbed the impact with near soundless grace.
He continued scanning the woods every few paces.
Ever aware and always alert. A true predator.
Orelia turned her attention back to the map and tried not to think about when the tracking stone would reveal another name and the predator would have to be unleashed again.
Next to one of the ships printed in Goldbottom Bay he’d written The Crimson Curtain. She’d heard stories of pirates and tavern brawls, seamen who dabbled in dark magic, and captains who dealt in even darker lurking in Bellstown.
The three cities around Goldbottom made up the Triangle and held the majority of the wealth in the continent.
Carraba was old money, housing the nobles who didn’t live in the Capitol, with Bellstown being a shipyard and pirate haven.
Ricaboro was the most affluent and vivacious.
She’d always wanted to see the infamous glittering city, but they were headed west, and Ricaboro was north. Disappointment slouched her shoulders.
Orelia got lost in the map. Only a few towns were unmarked, but Vade truly had been all over the world. Envy crawled through her before turning into the thrill of knowing she was now able to discover places for herself.
She tripped over upturned roots, and after righting herself, realized Vade was far ahead. Orelia folded the map and hurried along, the sound of running water growing louder as she approached.
Thank the gods they were close to a river. Her half-empty waterskin was a reminder that the day would only get warmer, and she needed to stay hydrated. She was about to call out to Vade when he went preternaturally still, his focus locked on something in the distance.
She followed his eyeline and stopped dead in her tracks. Orelia wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing, but every hair on her arms stood straight up.