Chapter 9 #2
“Is hovery even a word?” he countered. “Besides, it’s my job to be hovery.”
I sighed heavily. “So that’s what today is? Duty?”
Something flashed in his eyes before he looked away. “It’s complicated.”
I rolled my eyes. Fine, I’d give up. For now.
We stood in silence for a while, just gazing out over the scenery, before I turned to face him as he leaned against the railing next to me. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” I covered his hand with mine. “Thank you for bringing me.”
He flipped his hand over and threaded his fingers with mine, giving a quick squeeze. “You’re welcome.”
We stood there, hand in hand, and watched for a while longer before he straightened. I turned and looked at him expectedly.
“Do you see that town?” He stood behind me, close but not touching, his arm raised over my shoulder as he pointed downriver.
“With the walls?” I followed the direction of his finger, trying to ignore the warm, male presence at my back, focusing instead on the faint towers in the distance.
“It’s called Terraleth. Deirdre lives on the far side, but we have some time left before we have to meet her.
You said you wanted to see more of Serentyn. ”
“I do,” I said eagerly. “Yes, please.”
He wrapped his arms around me again and transported us to the outskirts of the walled village, stone towers appearing every hundred feet or so, built for defense.
But the gates were thrown wide open, people strolling through, carrying all manner of things—flowers, fruits, vegetables, baskets overflowing with meats and cheeses.
Through the gates were half-timber houses, haphazardly placed next to each other, each leaning against its neighbor as though they were drunk, mutually keeping each other upright.
The stone path was uneven and rough, even under my thick-soled boots, but it stretched ahead to a center market square, where tables were piled high with anything you could wish to buy.
In the precise middle of the square was a massive stone fountain about double a man’s height, carved with features of animals.
The fountain sprayed up out of a fish’s open mouth, splashing down into the pools below.
“Is it market day?” I asked as we stood to the side, watching.
“They have a market several times a week. It’s one thing Terraleth is known for.”
Still wary of crowds, I double-checked my shields were locked down tight. No stray thoughts would leak through and ruin this.
As we wandered toward the market, Griff let me set the pace, looking at whatever caught my fancy.
This first part of the market consisted of fruits and vegetables, displayed in boxes in front of the booths.
Everywhere I looked, everyday people were going about their everyday business.
Mothers hurried along the streets, children held by one hand, supplies for the day’s meals in the other.
Stall keepers were hawking their wares, calling out to attract attention.
Over in one corner, a lone artist sat painting the scene.
It was such a change from what I had known these past few weeks, and my soul rejoiced to see it.
While the scale of this was greater than my hometown, I knew this scene. I knew these people.
We walked closer to the fountain in the center, the spray chilly this time of year.
“There’s a tradition here,” Griff started as he fished in a pocket. Pulling out two coins, he held one to me. “Make a wish, throw it over your left shoulder into the water, and if you’re lucky, it will come true.”
I took the still warm coin from his grasp. I had so much to wish for. In the end, I picked the thing that mattered most. That I would be enough. I stood next to him, our backs to the water, and as one we threw our coins in.
“What did you wish for?” I asked him.
His mouth tilted in a half-smile. “I’ll tell you if it comes true.”
I returned his smile before continuing my perusal of the market.
I had moved on to looking at the flowers when Griff touched my shoulder to get my attention.
That familiar jolt of energy startled me more than it should have.
He jerked his head toward a stall, then headed that way, allowing me to follow him leisurely, distracted by the diverse wares we passed.
Before I could join him at the stall, though, he came back holding two bags that smelled delicious.
Scents of warm, baked bread with cinnamon and hints of lemon wafted from the bag.
I eagerly took the one he offered me, our hands brushing.
It was a flaky pastry, baked a rich golden color, drizzled with fruit syrup and dusted in powdered sugar.
I bit in and let out a moan of delight as the sugary apple and caramel flavors burst onto my tongue.
Griff choked on his own bite before coughing and ushering us onward.
We headed through the gate on the far side of the town, the rolling hills I’d viewed from the waterfall spread out before us. I took this opportunity to ask him a question I’d been wondering for a while now. “How far can you teleport?”
“As far as I need to,” he said, entirely too pleased with his non-answer.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferably cryptic?”
He laughed and caught my hand before I could hit him, passing it under his arm instead. “Once or twice. But I’m certain you’ll keep asking questions anyway. To appease you, Princess, the answer is that I’ve never found a limit, nor a reason to test what that limit may be.”
“Is that normal? For magic to be limitless?”
He was surprised by my question, as though he’d never considered it before. “I suppose not.”
We lapsed into silence as we strolled along, his forearm solid under my hand, the toned muscle shifting beneath his sleeve with each step.
I was hyperaware of every place we touched—my palm on his arm, our shoulders brushing.
The strange warmth that I felt every time our skin met spread up my arm and settled deep in my chest. It wasn’t unpleasant—quite the opposite in fact.
It was as if a cheery fire had taken up residence, warming something that I hadn’t realized was cold.
This was nice. Uncomplicated. A sense of peace and rightness settled in my chest. I intended to enjoy it until he decided to clam up again.
“Whenever I use my powers,” I admitted, “I just feel… drained.”
He had turned his head to look at me when I spoke, his sandy waves falling just above his eyes.
“That’s common. Especially when you’re just learning.
You’ll learn to regulate and it won’t be as much of an effort,” he told me.
“Longer distances or carrying more people causes additional strain and takes me longer to recover.”
“Finn said you have body and earth?”
“Body, earth, and mind,” he corrected. “Body to move myself, mind to travel through space, and earth to figure out where to go.”
“Does your body channel do more than just help you teleport?”
“It certainly doesn’t hurt my fighting.”
“Do you have any of the others?”
Instead of answering, he snapped his fingers.
A small flame appeared in his free palm, dancing.
“Fire,” he murmured, then made a circling gesture with his other hand.
A soft breeze caressed the back of my neck, making the strands of hair that had escaped my braid rustle, before circling around my face to tickle my nose.
“Air.” I shivered as the wind traced along my cheek and throat, a final embrace before dissipating.
He closed his fist, the fire disappearing, and then opened it again, palm to the ground where a trickle of water appeared. “Water.”
“Show-off.”
“Only for you, Princess.” He ducked his head, but I still saw his smile.
Wait a minute—“Do you have all seven channels?” If he did, how was I just hearing about it now?
“Soul has never manifested anything.”
Even so, from what I’d learned, six out of seven was almost unheard of.
“And people keep being impressed with me,” I breathed.
He glanced sidelong at me. “You are very impressive,” he said sincerely. “And my strength is nothing compared to yours.”
“I don’t know about that. You at least know what you’re doing,” I said, perhaps a bit petulantly.
He patted my hand where it rested on his arm. “You’ll get there. I have faith.”
I realized with wonder that I’d never truly seen him relaxed. Not like this. I decided to push it, and keep asking questions.
“What is it about your powers that they keep sending you to the holes in the Veil?”
He opened his mouth to reply when we heard it—a blood-curdling scream.
In one fluid motion, Griff shoved me behind him and drew his swords, the blades singing as they were freed from their sheaths.
The almost-relaxed, almost-joking man I’d been walking with was gone.
Replaced with the Champion, coiled and ready for action.
He took off, in ground-eating strides. I ran after him until I was alongside him once more. His arm shot out, catching me across the upper chest. The impact was solid enough to stop my momentum. He positioned me behind him once more, deliberately this time.
The glare he leveled at me communicated clearly: Stay. Back.
I gritted my teeth, but message received. I'd stay back. For now.
We rounded the bend at a run, but Griff stopped short so suddenly I nearly crashed into his back. He made a sound—somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh—and sheathed his swords. This time, he didn’t stop me when I moved to his side.