CHAPTER 10 #4
Wep cleared his throat, and the group closed into a circle without further prompting.
I followed suit, regretting it immediately when he gestured to me.
“A new member to your ranng. This is Serae. Don’t fuck her up too much.
” A splattering of chuckles sounded. “And don’t make me regret putting her with you.
” He looked at each one in turn, must have been satisfied by what he saw, then launched into our goal for the day.
It was the strangest introduction I’d ever received.
As Wep turned away, a man with the darkest hair I’d seen in the Riht—fully brown—extended his forearm to me. “I’m Raif,” was all he said. His eyes were night-sky blue. Between his downturned mouth and lowered brows, he and Wep could have competed for surliest man in the Riht.
Raif split us into groups of two—or three, in my group’s case.
Raif paired Lex, Teke paired the muscular woman, and the remaining two were stuck with me.
From the corner of my eye, I watched Wep approach Teke’s group.
I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but his face was a little less severe than usual.
“No, I don’t know what he’s planning,” a deep voice rumbled next to me. He was a veritable mountain of a man with more bulging muscles than I knew a human body could possess. “He’ll have figured something out, Helene, don’t worry.”
The slight woman, Helene, glanced toward me, met my eyes for half a second, then pulled her eyes to the floor.
What a thought. Was I, an uncoordinated interloper, a source of intimidation?
No. Next to them, I moved like I belonged in a children’s class—a bitter realization to swallow.
After one day of private training, Wep had thrust me into a group that might mock or even despise me for holding them back.
What was he thinking? What was anyone thinking, sending me to this confounded place?
I glanced at Wep, who was now talking with Raif’s group.
He cut an impressive figure, and Creator was it annoying.
He was all perfectly honed muscles and looming height.
Worse, everyone in this room looked at him with more than just deference—they respected him.
Dane clearly had a high opinion of him, as well.
Even the man beside me—who looked like he could rip a fucking tree out of the ground—kept glancing at Wep with open admiration.
I bet it stroked his ego daily. He radiated strength, control, authority, and it made him insufferable.
As if feeling my gaze, Wep turned and met my eyes. I glared back as he approached. I may have been a lot of things, but I’d never been one to back down.
“You’ve done introductions?” Wep asked.
Neither Helene nor the giant man replied.
Wep sighed. “Helene,” he said, pointing to the woman whose name I had already surmised, “Ivank,”—Wep pointed to the giant—“and Serae. There we are. Rotate through the strength dowsae. Serae doesn’t know any of them, so you’ll have to teach her. Start with the bear patterns.”
Ivank nodded his shaved head, and Wep strode back to Teke’s group. So much for him being an instructor.
I looked at my two newfound companions. “Sorry you’re stuck with babysitting duty.” I meant it to sound flippant, but it came out bitter.
“Teaching is much harder than doing.” Ivank shrugged. “Stand beside me. Helene will lead.”
Ivank turned out to be a patient teacher, and Helene was excellent at demonstrating.
Perhaps it was a small blessing from the Creator that I’d been assigned to them instead of Wep.
He spent the lesson focusing on the other two groups and shooting me covert glares.
Helene, I quickly found, could hold any pose for ages, despite her slight frame.
Her entire body, save for her mousy blond braid, would freeze the instant Ivank called for her to stop.
My initial dread whittled away with each step of the strenuous routine.
And, though I was holding them back from full practice, both made me feel included and welcome.
Had they been asked to? I tried not to think about it too closely or that hollow feeling would return.
After class ended, Wep approached our group. “You were adequate today. I have other matters to attend to. Take Serae with you when you head out.” It was more words than he’d spoken to us all lesson.
Helene nodded, but Ivank pushed back. “I’m not going out.”
A look passed between Wep and Ivank. It must’ve been some silent contest because after a moment, when Ivank didn’t back down, Wep sighed, “Fine. Serae, go with Helene.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Wherever she takes you.”
“What does that mean?”
He waved a hand toward Helene. “Ask her.”
Helene was staring at Wep with large, round eyes. At his returning glare, she squeaked, turned on her heel, and left.
I had to sprint to catch up. Sprinting was easier than ever before, but still tiring after the full training session.
“Where are we going?” I panted.
“This way.”
A deep, rumbling laugh echoed through my mind.
I balked, glancing around. There was only Helene. I frowned. That’s it, I’m finally going insane.
Once outside the keep, my heart sank as Helene continued toward the market.
The jeers from two days ago were still fresh in my mind, and it’s not like I had great experiences in the market in general.
Helene led us straight through the rows that usually encompassed my permitted outings—and beyond.
Before I knew it, we crossed a small bridge into the lower city, heading down one alley, then another.
We stopped before a small stone building, a sign with a teacup swinging on a hinge just above the doorway.
I froze. The sign was glowing. The strokes of the teacup carved into the wood shone with soft yellow light, as if lit by fire from within. I stared, completely ignoring the door Helene held open. Was it a trick of my eyes? I craned my neck to look from another angle.
Helene glanced back at me.
“How is it doing that?” I asked.
Helene shook her head. “Doing what?”
I gaped, searching for a response. She beckoned inside. I was reluctant to pull my eyes away, but I followed.
The room we entered was downright quaint.
The floors were covered with plush pillows, each boasting a unique pattern, and low tables, similar to the one in the Relaxation Room.
Winding pathways spiderwebbed between the pillows, allowing barely enough space for one person to walk.
In one corner stood a bar of sorts, with what I would have called a barkeep, were it not for the myriad of neatly stacked tins around him—and the distinct lack of alcohol.
Behind him climbed ceiling-high rows of miniature shelves alongside stacks of different handle-free mugs.
It wasn’t until I took a breath that our location smacked me in the face.
“A tea house,” I cooed, the strange sign forgotten.
I was instantly transported back to the kitchens at home, where I would spend hours helping the cook dry herbs, flowers, and thin slices of fruit—mixing them to discover new flavors.
The air was full of the warm scents of mixed spices, fruits, and floral notes.
“A tea bar,” Helene corrected, the corner of her mouth lifting into a tiny smile. She led the way to one of the many open cushions.
There was only one other couple in the entire place, aside from the man behind the bar, whom Helene marked as the owner.
This place was either not the most popular of haunts, or the hour was the culprit.
Seated on my plush, orange cushion, I returned to eyeing the bar and noted the series of dark glass bottles mixed among the tins of tea blends.
Maybe there was alcohol here. Drakh just got a lot more interesting.
Helene was the picture of comfort, lounging across three pillows in a way that claimed belonging.
A pang of jealousy flashed in my chest. What would it be like to feel so accepted—so at home somewhere? In Cavendaffe, I couldn’t even sit like that in the privacy of my own bedroom. “What do you order here?” I asked instead of following that line of thought.
“You don’t.”
At that moment, the owner wandered over and set a drink down in front of Helene. It was a generous mug that steamed slightly, a small white flower floating atop the richly colored liquid.
“Who’re you, then?” the man asked me in Rihtish.
He had an open expression and a kindly look about him that brought to mind my father’s steward, who often acted as family caretaker.
Though this man was probably a decade his junior.
His long, mousy-blond hair and beard were tied into several tight braids, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
Introductions were something I’d already learned. “Well met. I’m Serae,” I responded in Rihtish, hoping he didn’t ask other questions I’d have no chance of understanding.
He squinted as he ogled me from head to toe. He held his hands out, palms up. After a moment of staring incredulously at him, I took his hands, and…something…like a tingling warmth passed between us. Then, he tapped his nose and walked away without another word.
I was starting to understand why Helene, who’d spoken fewer than three sentences during our entire training session, liked this place.
It took a few minutes, but the owner came back with an ebony mug.
A single cinnamon stick peeked out the top like a stirrer.
He waited, arms folded across his chest, staring at me.
What else could I do? With a silent prayer to the Creator, I drank.
My mouth exploded with a celebration of spices—warm and aromatic, dancing over my tongue in a way I’d never experienced before. There was the obvious cinnamon, but also nutmeg, pepper, anise, and several other flavors I couldn’t place.
“Delicious,” I purred, though I wasn’t sure if I should be voicing my appraisal in such a quiet room.
The owner smirked in a self-satisfied way, reminding me of something much larger and more lethal than a house cat. He reached across the table, patted Helene’s cheek, and returned to the bar.
I looked to Helene, who shrugged.
“My uncle. It’s his gift,” she said, raising her mug in cheers.
“His gift?”
Helene nodded. “Maybe that’s not the best word. It’s his bierla,” she added, as if that were explanation enough.
“Blessing,” the voice translated in my mind. I was getting used to its interruptions.
My eyes flew to the window beside the door, but I couldn’t see that mysterious sign from here. “Are there other blessings?”
Helene nodded.
“Do you have one?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t been presented to the Great Dragon.”
Memory of the cave flooded me. My skin prickled as if I were being devoured by blackness again. I remembered a strange light. I had walked through and seen—glowing. Peridot green eyes that shone from within. A snout that loomed above me, and fangs, white and wicked.
“I’m not from Drakh. I haven’t had my First Sun yet.”
Helene’s words tore me from my reverie. I focused my eyes back on her. “Did you have a Sun Trial?” Dane had told me all Riht went through one, but he was not forthcoming with details prior to my own.
“Yes, but I have not been called yet for the…blessing,” she stumbled over the last word.
“From the Great Dragon?” I asked, breathless. She nodded as if everything crashing down on me was simple. At once, the world around me was too loud, too bright, too strong. That unfathomable cave towered over me. I had looked into the face of a living, breathing dragon—The Great Dragon.
No, it couldn’t be. I recoiled from the very thought. There were no dragons left on Jaeda—no magic. My pulse quickened. Air rasped through my lungs. I gripped my mug with both hands as one thought pounded through my skull. The blessings. Had I not just seen their proof?
“Peace, Small One.”
My mind stilled at the command. I sipped my tea, melting into its spicy warmth once more.
After that, we drank in companionable silence.