As they approached, Badr studied her curiously. “You were hiding your magical skills from me. I knew you were, but I had no idea the level of your skill. Who taught you?”
Samara frowned at him and shook her head sadly. “An elf.” She stopped talking then, because the little girl came toward her next. A strange woman from the gaping crowd cried out, “Jasmine!” Samara recognized the woman from the group that had arrived with the girl.
“Jasmine! Get back here,” said her father. But Jasmine came to her, despite the protests from her parents.
“Thank you again,” Jasmine said, barely audible above the crowd of shouting and clapping Khaliji who had followed her.
Gasping, she soon found herself lifted into the air amid chants of her name. Some broke into song, and they carried her back to camp. She felt happy, but she also felt uncomfortable with all the attention.
They placed her down by Varisha’s wagon and left. She could still hear them singing about her as they went to work to put out the fires and to gather their dead.
Varisha came and sat next to her. “You could have told us that you already had a lot of training as a mage.” Samara, however, was distracted by the body of Heyam being carried past her. She frowned. If she had come back earlier, or if she hadn’t left at all, she could have saved him.
Following her gaze, Varisha put an arm around the girl. “It’s understandable to miss those who have passed, but the Khaliji celebrate the life the deceased lived.” Rubbing Samara’s opposite shoulder, she continued, “Do not mourn Heyam. He died protecting us.”
“Who will become chief?” Samara asked.
“Chief?” Varisha said. “We don’t have a chief.”
*****
After some time passed, Badr approached. He seemed exhausted, and Samara expected he had worn himself out using healing magic. He grabbed a stool from the crushed wagon and set it up next to the girl. Plopping heavily into it, he smiled his broad smile and asked, “How is it that you hardly broke a sweat?”
If he expected an answer, he didn’t get one. Samara didn’t know how to answer the question, nor was she comfortable telling him that she was gifted, a prodigy, or any of the other words that Illtud had used, and she certainly didn’t want him to know that she could just take it from those around her. So instead, she grinned back at him.
Growing serious, he said, “You said that an elf trained you. Have you been to elven lands?”
Samara’s gaze fell to her lap. “I have not. Illtud travels with me.” She glanced up at him. “He is in Varisha’s wagon.” Omar had walked up, carrying a bucket of water past them, but had stopped to listen to this conversation. He traded concerned glances with his mother, which didn’t escape Samara’s notice.
“He is there. Wait, and I’ll go get him.” She darted from her stool and entered the wagon. Varisha followed her and watched as the girl dug through the drawer they had given her.
When Samara grasped the knife, Illtud said, Oh, how nice of you to come get me. What was all that commotion?
“I’ve told them about you, Illtud,” Samara said, walking over to Varisha.
What? She could hear the panic in his voice. Why would you have done that?
“Because I had to use magic to save them.” Varisha stepped out of her way as Samara walked down the steps. “They saw me.” She walked over to Badr and handed him the knife.
The dark man didn’t take it right away. The Khaliji stared at her. She could tell they thought she had perhaps lost her mind, and she found that a little funny. Finally, Badr asked, “You’re saying that your knife is an elf.”
Samara laughed aloud and pointed the pommel at Badr. “No,” she said, “He is trapped in the . . .” Samara frowned. She reverted to her own language and looked at Varisha, “Gem. He told me that Emperor Havelle put him in there, but he has lied about many things.”
I have not lied to you, Illtud quickly said.
Interrupting him, Samara said, scowling down at the dagger, “I remember. I remember everything. I know that your people stole my people from the mountains. I know—”
She stopped, not wanting to say she had killed her own people, but she felt angry. She loved Illtud; he had been her companion. “I don’t know all the truth, but I do know that elves have my mother, and my father left to go save her.” She said this to Illtud as well as to the others.
The Khaliji were staring at her like she was crazy, but she knew that convincing them would be easy enough. “Illtud, speak to them.” She waited for a second for him to talk to them.
She knew that the signs would be obvious enough. It’s not every day one hears a strange voice in their head. When she didn’t notice any indications, she said, “If he will not speak to you, then cast your spell to see magic.”
You’re making a mistake, she heard the elf grumble. Then she saw Badr’s eyes widen, and he backed away from the blade.
She watched each of them converse with the elf. They all had similar reactions. They asked many questions about elves, and Illtud answered them, but he didn’t elaborate. She suspected he wasn’t keen on giving away too much about his people.
Samara glanced west while they talked, anxious to start her journey. They had passed through prairies and near canyons, but the high peaks of the mountains still surrounded them on all sides.
She reflected on the short time that she had spent with the Khaliji. They had been wonderful to her, almost like a new family. But now she needed to find her father, and if that meant traveling to Illtud’s home, then she should get going.
She turned to Varisha, who obviously was listening to something Illtud was saying, and said, “I have to leave. I must go to my parents.”
Panic spread across Omar’s face, and he said, “You’re going . . .” He looked to his mother, then back at Samara, and said, “. . . with us.”
Samara gazed at him sadly. “I need to go faster. I can’t stop at every town along the way to perform. My parents need me, and they need to know what happened.”
It’s a wise decision, Illtud said to everyone. You’ve been kind to Samara, but I need to get back to my people to ensure that her parents are well taken care of. In my lands, Samara will be my apprentice. She’ll live among the elves, like the elves.
Nobody responded to this. Omar looked close to tears. Finally, Varisha stood and said, “I’ll go pack our things.”
Samara’s mouth dropped. “Our things?”
“Yes, of course. You are Khaliji now, and more than that, you are family. We can’t desert you.” Omar grinned and jumped for joy, then darted into the wagon.
Standing dumbfounded, Samara said, “B-but . . .” Then Badr squeezed her shoulder as he stood up.
“I, too, shall go and pack,” the dark man said.
Staring after them, Illtud spoke up. You’ve earned some strong allies, Samara.
*****
The next morning, the quartet left on horseback. Varisha and Badr had packed what they could out of their wagons, then gave what remained to the rest of the Khaliji. They gave their carriages to those who had lost theirs during the skirmish with the bandits.
Without the carts, Samara knew that they would travel much faster, but it had been months, perhaps longer, since she had been on horseback, and she shared a saddle with Omar, who wasn’t much bigger than she was.
Before, she had ridden with her mother or her father, nestled into their arms. In the winter, she had ridden on the sleds. So sitting atop the horse, hanging onto Omar, was a bit awkward, not to mention that the saddles felt uncomfortable.
Nevertheless, they left behind the Khaliji and followed the road that would lead them to the coast . . . to her mother and father.
Chapter 21: Dearly Departed
The tangy air filled the mountain pass and clung to Samara. She didn’t know exactly when the atmosphere had changed, but the transition had seemed sudden, and the moisture left her damp and cold, despite her fur cloak. Her horse followed the path up an incline, and as the
road arched over the pinnacle, she gasped at the scene that slowly revealed itself.
As the highway snaked down the mountain, it weaved between the tallest pine trees she had ever seen. Their route then slithered through heavily wooded hills before turning south to follow an expanse of water that made Standing Lake seem like a trivial tarn in comparison.
"You live here?” Samara asked, her voice edged with wonder.
No, I live across the ocean, Illtud said.
Her face fell in disbelief. “How are we going to get across that?” she asked.
When you get to the water, you’ll turn north, Illtud said. We have a large boat that will carry us across.
“I don’t see anything across it,” she said. “It seems to go on forever.”
It’s larger than all the land, Illtud said. And my home is on a small bit of land called an island. It’s beautiful, with trees that reach higher than any other tree, even higher than the trees here.
“Wow!” Samara exclaimed. “My mother and father are there already?”
No, they await us on the ship, he said.
She smiled with excitement. She was so close now. Soon, she would be reunited with her parents. Regardless of her elation, however, something about Illtud nagged at her. He hadn’t been talkative since she and her friends had left the caravan and started out on their own. When she had talked to him, he had answered, but their conversations had been short until now.
When the others caught up with her, she turned and exclaimed, “Look!”
Badr chuckled in his deep voice, then said, “The ocean is beautiful, and it spans to the ends of the world.”
“Illtud says he lives across it on an island,” Samara said.
Badr nodded stiffly. She knew that he disapproved of the elven spirit. Varisha and Omar rode up next to her. Omar, sitting in front of his mother, animated his voice like a storyteller as he said, “Come, let’s go, Samara. Wait till you get closer. The water crashes against the rocks and sprays you, and in some areas, the shore has soft sand.”
Samara’s three companions trotted ahead, while she stayed and stared at the view, smiling. Off to her right, the forested mountain with its giant trees was covered by a shroud of mist. To the young girl from the plains, it all seemed enchanting.
She and Omar had been trading turns riding with Varisha, but on this day, they had let Samara ride solo, for which she was grateful. Her excitement grew as they drew nearer, and riding alone gave her the freedom to set the pace. Giddy with anticipation, she couldn’t wait to see her mom and dad.
Despite her excitement, her nerves ate at her. She had pushed away the thought that her mother was dead since the premonition had first come upon her. However, as they neared their destination, the feeling had sneaked back, and her concerns regarding Illtud’s honesty didn’t help matters.
Regardless, she kept pushing the thought aside. After all, she couldn’t know for certain, and soon she would see them. Kicking her mount into motion, she trotted her horse down the road toward the others.
*****
When they reached the coast, the ocean ate half the sun. The yellow orb’s reflection extended across the water like a golden stripe reaching toward her. The salty air was much stronger now, and the sound of seabirds and of waves crashing below filled their ears. The path turned south not far from a ledge.
Samara dismounted, stepped off the dusty road, and cautiously approached the rocky shelf. The cliff dropped into the water, and she could see the turmoil against the rocks below and feel the spray against her cheek.
She turned north and saw in the distance a ship moored against a sandy beach. From where she stood, judging the size of the ship was difficult, but she could tell that it was very large.
Is that it? she asked Illtud.
I can’t see what you’re talking about, he said.
It’s a very big boat. Far to the north, she responded.
Illtud said, Very likely. I’ll know for sure when we get closer.
Turning to the others, she pointed to the huge ship, smiling excitedly. The rest of her group didn’t share her enthusiasm; they glanced toward the ship with fear on their faces. A nagging malaise surfaced, and she remounted. The quartet rode quietly toward the rocky wilderness to the north.
When the ocean finally consumed the light completely, they had to stop, as the land dropped off steeply, preventing further travel north. She studied the slant. Although not a sheer cliff face, the rocky earth fell away quickly enough to prevent the horses’ passage. Thick foliage filled in the crevices between the rocks on the slope.
Badr dismounted and stepped to the ledge. To Varisha, he said, “We’re going to have to ride east to get around this cliff. It could take another day. The other option would be to climb down and leave the horses, but I would rather not do that.” He paused and contemplated Samara, concern clearly written on his face. “Just in case,” he finished.
Omar leaned against Varisha, clearly asleep. His head rested in the crook of her arm. After shaking him awake, Varisha dismounted, helping her groggy child to the ground. Walking over to Badr, she peered down the cliff and said, “I agree.”
Gazing toward the dark silhouette of the ship in the distance, Samara found she didn’t want to go around. They could leave the horses and get to the ship. Then again, she didn’t want to vocalize her opinion, either.
“We shall camp here tonight,” Badr said.
Sighing, Samara dismounted. Not far from them, she had spotted a felled log. On other occasions, she had let the others prepare camp and had used her magic minimally, but on this night, she wanted to get the work done quickly. She waved her arm, and a gust of wind cleared the debris and undergrowth around the log, immediately followed by a short whirlwind of fire.
The others started at the sudden burst of magic, but then they saw Samara standing next to the fire, smiling proudly, and they laughed. Badr’s deep chuckle was the loudest, and he said, “Our little mage has been holding out on us. She’s been enjoying watching me struggle with setting up camp every night.”
Samara regarded him uncertainty. She could have started the fire the way her father had taught her or let the others do it, and she would have under normal circumstances, but on this night, she was overwhelmed by an irrational sense of urgency. Now she felt doubtful. Perhaps she should have been using her magic all along.
Badr could see that she was confused by his reaction, so he crouched low and said, “Come here, girl.” She stepped over to him, and he picked her up. “I was taught that one should not use magic when tasks can be done without it. It makes us lazy. That said, exceptions are excusable, such as this. You did well.”
“What rubbish,” said a melodic voice behind them. The four of them turned to see an elf wearing blue robes standing just outside the firelight, his hands up in supplication. “Why bother doing things manually when magic can do a better job?”
Setting Samara on the ground behind him and placing a hand on the pommel of his blade, Badr asked, hostility in his voice, “Who are you?”
This is Armein, our ship captain and renowned water mage, Illtud projected into everyone’s mind. Armein nodded in response.
The elf stepped closer, and Samara saw at least four more blue auras behind him in the dark. Armein stood tall and straight, staring down at them over his nose.
He peeked around Badr, gazing directly at Samara, “This is the girl? This is Abiz—” He stopped, his head cocked as if listening, then continued, “Ah, Samara?”
“There are more of them,” Samara said. She felt very nervous about these newcomers, and the hair on the back of her neck rose.
“Yes, these are my companions,” Armein said, smiling. “Sailors.” Four elves stepped forward out of the dark, three males and one female, each carrying a bow with no arrows nocked. While he said this, he seemed distracted, and Samara knew he was talking to Illtud.
Readying her magic, she prepared to defend herself and the others from the elves, but as she did,
Illtud’s soothing voice sounded off in her head. Relax, Samara, these are friends. Trusting Illtud, but not completely, she relaxed but kept her magic ready; something still seemed wrong.
“This is Fraeara,” Armein said, indicating the female elf. Then, pointing to the others, he said, “Melbarn, Arrud, and Zeborn.”
“Where’s my mom and dad?” Samara asked, directing her question at Illtud, but Armein responded.
Smiling enchantingly, the tall elf crouched to her level and pulled a handful of trinkets out of a pocket of his robes. “They’re on the ship, sweet child.” When he held the baubles out to her, she could see that the items were enchanted with red auras like her knife blade.
She stepped forward to better study the trinkets, but Badr put a firm hand on her shoulder, and Varisha pulled Omar close. Her companions’ suspicions did nothing to alleviate hers. I promise they won’t hurt you, Samara, Illtud said. Have I not looked after you?
“I’m not going to hurt her!” Armein said, indignantly, to Badr. Then he smiled charmingly at Samara again. “Your mother and father wanted you to have these. We first gave them to your parents, but when they heard we were coming to get you, they insisted that you have them. They’ve been sick with worry for you and can’t wait to see you.”
“Why didn’t they come with you?” she asked.
The elf laughed pleasantly, like a spring flowing languidly over pebbles. To Samara, the laughter was infectious, and she smiled. “I hate to do this, but they’re preparing a celebration for your arrival. Unfortunately, it was supposed to be a surprise,” he said, raising his arms in a shrug.
Samara started to feel better about the elf and stepped forward, but Badr’s grip tightened. She put a reassuring hand on his and glanced up at her friend. “It’ll be fine,” she said and continued forward unhindered after he hesitantly removed his hand.
The pile that the elf held in his hand was a collection of simple jewelry, including a ring carved from a deep red wood, a hair comb decorated with colorful feathers, and a choker braided from hair the color of ash. “They’re enchanted,” she said, peering up at him.
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