“So surprised?” she asked, a faint smile passing across her cracked lips.
At the sound of her voice, Wing’s body and mind reconnected and he shook his head and uttered the unbelievable word: “Carly.”
“Wing,” she replied softly.
A fainting feeling caused him to reach out and draw her into his arms, as if she were a rope that might save him from drowning.
From the cradle of his arms, she clutched at him and a soft cry of disbelief escaped her throat.
Wing felt the fragility of her form dissolve. Leaning down, he took her feet from the floor and found that she was shockingly light, as if he were holding nothing more than a hollowed-out skeleton.
As Wing turned to leave, he noticed that the Hiona had fallen silent, the patrons diverted from their conversations by his and Carly’s reunion.
With expedition, Wing moved out of the pub, across the plank-board walkway, and strode down the street out of town, conveying Carly as if he were bearing no more weight than a folded cloak.
Free of the curious and probing gazes of the townsfolk, Wing continued into the long, fielded space between town and the home of the Monterays’.
In his mind, he felt Carly’s weight in his arms as no more than sunlight. But the emotional shock had him weakening in the knees, turning his joints to pudding.
Pausing at last, he knelt, easing Carly gently to the ground. She must have dozed in his arms for she came around as he laid her down. She seemed unsure at first where she was and what she was seeing, but then her eyes focused on Wing and tears began to fill them. She tried to speak but no words would come.
Smoothing the hair away from her face, Wing shook his head at her as if to say there was no need to say anything.
“You’re alive,” she said at last. “You’re alive. I knew you would be. I knew it.”
Tears spiked hot in the back of Wing’s eyes. Carly’s hand trembled as she reached up and touched his face. Wing pressed his cheek into her hand and his shoulders shook.
When he could manage his voice, he said, “I’m so sorry, Carly. Had I known that…had Nien been able to give me any hope that you had survived, that you’d made it out, I would have looked for you, I would have…”
Carly swallowed hard. “Nien?”
“He’s here, Carly. He’s here in Legran.”
Carly’s sun-darkened features paled, her lips trembled, and all she could do was stare up at him as tears made glistening tracks down her dirty face.
Wing pressed his face against her ear and whispered, “Let’s go see my brother.”
Taking her back up into his arms, Wing stood and moved on across the grassy plain.
Neither spoke the rest of the way, Carly’s head resting languidly against his shoulder as he walked, his heart in rapture, even as he sorrowed over the frailty of her condition, that she had been, all these turns, alive and alone.
She moved her head against his body, nestling like a colt to its mother’s belly, and Wing’s throat constricted with emotion, awash in the warmth of her presence, the rhythm of his gait, the smell of the sun burning across the scarlet strands of her hair just as it had the last time he’d seen her, riding away from her visit to the farm where they’d lain in the hay in the upper story of the barn, resting and making love. He had not known then that it would be the last time he would ever see her —
The last time I thought I would ever see her.
He lowered his face and touched his cheek to her hair.
The gap between them and the Monterays’ closed quickly, and soon Wing had stepped up to the cabin door.
“Carly?” he said.
Groggily, she raised her head and looked around.
Supporting her against his body, Wing set her to her feet, reached for the door handle, and pushed it open.
Inside, Nien glanced up from where he sat near the fire. “It’s about time — ” he started to say.
“I’ve got a little surprise for you,” Wing said. Stepping around, he helped Carly through the door.
Nien stood and his mouth gaped. “Carly?” he said. He looked at Wing. “Carly?”
“You greet a ghost the same way you greet an old friend,” Carly said, her voice soft but stronger than it had been. “With: How have you been?”
Nien rushed across the room and took her from Wing’s support, wrapping her in his arms.
Wing stood silently, trying and failing to comprehend the sight.
“Nien.” Carly looked at him through her hands as she wiped the tears from her face. “You don’t look so worse for the wear — not as I must, from the way you two keep looking at me.”
Nien’s face lit. He coughed and his voice broke.
Another silent tear ran down Carly’s cheek. “Legran? Both of you? Was there some note I missed? Some message that read: In case Rieeve is attacked we all meet up in Legran. Did I miss that?”
Her sarcasm both wrung and comforted Wing. “How long have you been here?” he asked.
“Not long. A turn or so,” Carly replied.
“You spent all these past turns in the mountains?”
“Well, mostly. I lived outside Jayak for a long time. I’d sneak into town at night and get food or anything else I needed, then I’d hide out in different locations during the day.”
“Why did you not try to speak with the Kiutu or Jiap?”
“I managed to find Jiap, and he helped me. As soon as I was able, however, I left. His family was kind enough but I could tell it was a strain on them.”
Wing’s gut tightened. “Carly...”
“It’s all right,” she said, wavering. “Though I really wish you two had let me in on your secret communiques.” Wing caught her as her knees gave way. Carrying her across the room, he set her down on his bed.
“You need rest, some food, and a hot bath,” Wing said. “The order in which they occur is up to you.”
“The Monterays will be having dinner soon,” Nien said.
“Would you like to go up to the house and bathe and eat, or would you rather rest and I bring you some food?” Wing asked, smoothing his hand over her forehead.
“I’d really love a bath,” Carly said.
“All right,” Wing said, and getting to his feet stepped to the table only to meet Nien doing what he’d meant to do — pour Carly a cup of water.
Carly drained the water in a breath, then passing her eyes over Wing and Nien slowly shook her head. “It’s unbelievable. The two of you. You’re both alive.” Her eyes strayed to Wing. “I love you,” she said. She looked across the room at Nien. “You, too, Deviant.”
Nien stepped to her side and pressed his lips to her cheek.
“Rest for a bit,” Wing said. “We’ll draw you bath inside.”
“I’ll run up right now and tell Kate.”
Wing nodded, “And I’ll make a first trip from the river with water.”
Nien headed out the door at a gallop for the house.
“Monteray, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Wing said.
Monteray looked up from the table.
“This is Carly,” Wing said, coming into the room with Carly beside him. Wing and Nien had heated and filled a bath for her and Kate had furnished some clothes. Though still so frail it burned Wing’s heart, she looked and clearly felt much better after a warm bath and fresh clothes. “She’s from Rieeve. She grew up with me and Nien.”
Monteray’s smile was warm as he greeted Carly then turned rather wicked as he looked at Wing. “There seems to be some sort of magic worked between our two houses,” he said. He extended a hand to Carly. “You are welcome here for as long as you’ll stay.”
Carly thanked him as Wing held a chair for her. A moment later, Tei came in and sat down, directly across from Nien. Wing introduced the two women. Carly nodded to Tei as Tei smiled sweetly, somehow too sweetly, her eyes shifting to Wing then back to Carly again.
Meanwhile, Nien had headed for the kitchen to find Kate and see if he could help br
ing out the food.
— It was not Kate, however, that he found.
A woman he had never seen before was standing by the stove and when she turned to see who had come in, Nien left his body.
She was tall for a woman, nearly as tall as Nien. Her skin was a flawless canvas, much like his own though a little lighter, a finer shade of silver. She clearly had Preak blood in her, but something else as well. Her hair had the shine of fine black Jhedan’ret, and her eyes were narrow like a cat’s and dark, painted black all around. She was wearing one of Kate’s aprons around her hips, but underneath the apron fell what looked to Nien like handsome but well-used traveling clothes.
She smiled at him with fine white teeth.
Her eyes, like polished black stone, seemed to reflect all the light in the room. Silken thread, beaded with delicate gemstones, held her long spiraling black hair at the nape of her neck, and when she looked at him it was with a fiery light of intelligence and wit that burned clean through him.
He tried only once to introduce himself — and failed impressively.
Noting his discomfiture, she asked playfully, “Come here often?”
Like the dulcet tones of gently flowing water, her voice sang into his very center, drawing his chest into a hot knot that eclipsed every other sensation. It also caused him to utterly miss the jest. “I do — come here often. Can I help?”
“I’d appreciate it,” she said, and taking up a heavy pan dropped it into his hands.
Nien just barely caught it and then stood there, as if he had no idea what to do with it.
An amused set of delicate crow’s feet appeared at the corners of the woman’s catlike eyes as she glanced down at the pan and then back up at his face.
“Right,” Nien said. Quickly, he turned back through the two swinging doors and spilled back into the dining room.
Setting the pan down in the only empty space left on the table, he stood a moment, aware that Wing had noticed what must have looked distinctly like utter stupefaction on his face. But Nien did not look at Wing as his brother’s question would be answered the moment the woman emerged from the kitchen behind him.
That moment was not long in coming as Monteray stood up and said, “There’s one more introduction that needs to be made.”
Without looking, Nien heard the woman come through the swinging doors and approach the table where Monteray met her, placing his arm around her like a proud father. “This is SiQQiy.”
SiQQiy, all the gods, Nien thought, his mind unraveling. The burning knot in his chest tightened.
Earlier in the afternoon, before Wing had gone into town, Nien had noticed activity up at the house but hadn’t bothered to find out what it was.
Only the arrival of the Empress of Quieness, he thought.
Monteray had told them a friend was coming from Quieness. He had even said that she, this friend, had received a messenger from Lant.
Obviously, I passed over the information’s full meaning. Yeefa. What had I thought? I knew Commander Lant and Master Monteray knew the Empress.
Perhaps he hadn’t considered it because it seemed a little too incredible — like everything else that had happened since coming to Legran.
I think I’ll hide in the cabin for the rest of her stay.
“It’s an honour to meet you,” Wing said, standing. Carly did likewise. Nien, however, could only cast her a glance of indistinguishable emotion before vanishing back into the kitchen.
From the dining room, Nien heard Call’s voice shout — “Am I late?” — followed by running feet and the back door slamming.
“No,” Nien heard Monteray say. “But if you could cut wooden angles for the house as close as you cut this meal you’d make all of us rich.”
“You already are rich,” Call replied.
Nien heard chair legs slide across the floor, as Kate said, “Well, Call’s here, all the food is here. Looks like all we’re missing is Nien.”
Bleekla, Nien thought, as he leaned against the counter at the far side of the kitchen. Now I’ve got to go back in there.
Though he was still having a hard time believing that the Empress of Quieness was, even now, just on the other side of the kitchen’s two thin swinging doors, it wasn’t so much her or that he hadn’t managed to speak an intelligible sentence in front of her that had rattled him, but the familiarity she evoked in him. Of course he was crazy. Of course, anyone would say he was reaching not only too high but too soon. Did people really fall in love at first sight? Did that actually happen?
E’te, he told himself. It’s all right. Probably everybody has that reaction the first time they see her. Perfectly normal.
Staring down at the counter, he recalled the sight, the feelings he had felt so long ago gazing out the window of his small apartment on the edge of Cao City, watching as the setting sun cast silvery rays across the ivory domes of SiQQiy’s palaces.
“Nien?”
Startled, Nien turned to see Kate.
“You all right?” she asked.
He nodded quickly. “Uh, yes, I was just — do we have everything?”
“I think so.”
Nien pulled himself together. “Then let’s eat,” he said, and avoiding Kate’s questioning gaze, pushed open one of the swinging doors for her.
Seating himself next to Carly, Nien dove with feigned enthusiasm into his food, offering very little eye contact and even less conversation as the meal commenced ⎯
Not that anyone in the room noticed.
The Monterays and SiQQiy carried a steady stream of persiflage regarding Quienan intrigue and her trip to Legran as well as Monteray’s progress on the house and the latest town nonsense. Even Call was unabashed in the presence of the Empress, interjecting his own thoughts, laughter, and unmediated questions.
Though it seemed to take forever and a day, the pace of the meal at last began to slow as fingers stooped to picking at morsels, and laughter was replaced with contented sighs and glasses of Hiona. There was almost a moment of silence before a sharp clang at Wing’s side snapped everyone’s attention to Carly; she’d dropped a long two-pronged fork against the edge of her plate. Her hand trembled as she tried to reposition it.
Wing stood and took the back of Carly’s chair, saying, “I think this food would serve you best followed by a good night’s sleep.”
Nien snatched the opportunity to excuse himself as well. “Monteray, Kate, Tei, Call,” he said to each of them. He let his gaze stray briefly to the Empress. “Nice to have met you.”
Back in the cabin, Wing threw back the blankets on his bed and motioned for Carly to get in.
“I can’t take your bed,” she resisted.
Wing gave her a stern look. “It isn’t big enough for two, at least if either of us wants to get any sleep.”
“Or if I do,” Nien said from the other side of the room. He winked. “Really, Wing loves the floor. And there’s the matter of…”
As if on cue, Lucin nudged the cabin door open with a shoulder and strode in.
Carly stared.
Wing glanced back. “That’s Lucin.”
“A shy’teh?” Carly asked, mouth gaping. “You have a shy’teh as a pet?”
“Well, not exactly. Maybe,” Wing said with a shrug. “But he is a shy’teh.”
As it seemed too obvious a thing for Wing to explain, Carly glanced at Nien. He shrugged, too. Apparently not knowing how he might explain any better.
“Trust me, you’ll hardly know he’s here,” Wing said.
“He likes the bed better than Wing does,” Nien offered helpfully.
Carly looked from Nien, to Wing, to the big cat. She sighed. Answers, if there were any, may be had, but not tonight. She was much too tired.
So, without any more prompting, Carly crawled into the bed, asleep before her head reached the pillow.
For a time, the brothers stood, quietly watching her as Lucin sniffed at the side of the bed.
“I shouldn’t be surprised by anything any
more,” Nien whispered.
“When I saw her in the Hiona,” Wing said, “I almost fainted.”
“That she survived is…” Nien paused. “I would have died had I not made it here, had Kate not nursed me back.”
Wing looked around at Nien. “So, Deviant?” he said, the corners of his lips turning up.
“What?”
“The Empress?”
Nien averted his eyes. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Am I? What’d we eat for dinner?”
Nien paused. Wing laughed.
Nien tossed the blankets bunched at the bottom of his bed at Wing. “Good night, little brother,” he said emphatically.
Wing caught the blankets. “Good night.”
Nien rolled onto his bed and closed his eyes.
Kneeling on the thick rug he’d removed early on from the wall of the cabin to sleep on, Wing spread the blankets Nien had given him over it, and then propped himself up on the edge of the bed where Carly lay.
There was nothing about her horribly thin frame, ragged scarlet hair, or weathered skin that wasn’t more beautiful to him than she had ever been. Though not the same visage he had imagined all those terrible nights after his escape, the sight of this new body that carried the same voice, the same smile, the same eyes of the Carly he had loved in Rieeve seeded his emotions, filling him with an intoxicating flowering of awe.
Shadows from the fire dancing about the cabin caught her face as she moved in her sleep and Wing noticed a long scar that began somewhere in her hair, stretching behind her left ear, and down the outside of her neck. His heart trembled as he touched his fingertip to it, tracing its length gently to where it ended upon her collarbone. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the scar. Her familiar scent filled Wing and he felt his joints melt. Drawing back, he swallowed the emotion welling his throat and, slipping beneath the blankets and into the fuzzy coarseness of the rug, was not quite able to fathom the one that lay only a couple steps away. As Lucin moved up into his usual position at Wing’s side, nose tucked under his arm, Wing closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask in wonder. No longer did Carly exist only in his mind as a treasured collection of memories; she was real, close enough to touch, warm and alive. The corners of his mouth curled with intense pleasure. He curled his fingers into the thick fur at the nape of Lucin’s neck and fell asleep.
Wing & Nien Page 54