by L. R. W. Lee
“Are you ready to check out your new home, old friend?” Kovis’s voice cracked on the last words.
“Bring Fiona,” he called over his shoulder as he grabbed his stallion’s reins. Alshain plodded along beside Kovis.
Fiona followed meekly behind me.
While Kovis had been tending to Alshain, I’d surveyed the homestead. It appeared no one was at home, so I wasn’t surprised when Kovis stepped boldly up to the barn door and opened it, then led us in.
The farmer would certainly have a surprise.
The inside of the barn was orderly. Hand tools hung from wooden pegs, larger farming implements had been arranged in some fashion that made sense to the owner. Six stalls, only two of which had occupants—a donkey and a goat—lined either side of the space. Both animals seemed well cared for judging by the abundant food in the feedboxes and clean stalls.
Kovis led Alshain into the stall next to the donkey. Fiona followed me into the space next to Alshain.
I heard him unbuckle Alshain’s bridle and knew he’d hung it up when the metal ring brushed against the wall separating the stalls.
I did the same for Fiona.
Kovis lingered, so I found some hay and oats and filled both their feedboxes. The water looked fresh. I hated to interrupt him, but I didn’t know how much time we had.
I peeked out the barn door and scanned the area. Still clear. I returned to Fiona and scratched behind her ear. She liked that.
I’d repeated the process no less than five times when my nerves got the better of me and I said, “Kovis, we need to go.”
“You’re right.” It sounded muffled.
I patted Fiona’s soft nose then shut her stall. When I reached the neighboring door, Kovis had his arms wrapped around Alshain’s neck. His face was buried in the thick winter fur just above the horse’s muscled shoulder. Alshain’s head nuzzled Kovis’s back as if the stallion truly understood this was goodbye.
Kovis had told me one time that once he decided to love someone, he held nothing back. While our current situation was testing that notion, he hadn’t lied when it came to his horse. I feared how he’d bear up.
Kovis pulled back and inhaled deeply, then turned and breezed past me without looking back. But not before I saw that his face was wet. I closed Alshain’s stall door then joined Kovis, who surveyed the coast. He didn’t look my way, only nodded for me to follow.
We crept out the door, and he latched it behind us. After one more scan of the area, he burst into a run and stopped only when he reached the safety of tree cover. I inhaled, slowing my breathing as I stopped beside him. He knelt, rummaged in his saddlebag, and withdrew a few small items then stowed them in his cloak, all the while taking deep breaths.
His beautiful blue and hazel eyes were wet but fierce as he looked up at me. My heart ached for him, and I only barely swallowed a sob. I’d suffered the loss of my family in silence, and it seemed he was choosing to suffer similarly.
He schooled his face into the one he wore in public, although his quivering lips told me emotion threatened to overwhelm the facade. He clenched his jaw. He was resolved. He was ready to go to Dream, and nothing would stand in his way.
I bit my lip as my heart broke. It was all too much. How would he endure? And how could I keep him from retreating back into his darkness when he’d only just begun to experience light?
We walked until we couldn’t see the farm or any part of the modest settlement through the trees. I swallowed hard. I couldn’t cry, or I’d probably draw out the tears Kovis struggled to stifle.
“Ready?” I asked, pushing emotions down as I buttoned the top button of my cloak. I was glad these capes had abundant fabric. It allowed me to stabilize myself while keeping my hands inside during flight and kept me from becoming a projectile icicle.
He nodded.
I conjured my pillow of air, leaned forward, then expanded it to push myself up into the sunshine, above the tree tops. Kovis rose and floated even with me to my left, never looking back.
The air was crisp. There were no clouds, so we could see a long way in the distance. The landscape ahead was populated with rolling hills, with a thin layering of trees much as we had enjoyed since setting out this sun. I glanced back and saw the white tipped peaks of the Tuliv mountains off in the distance—how I missed the warmth of their hot springs… as well as a few activities we’d engaged in. They were towering to be sure, and we hadn’t even ventured past their base. I understood why the former emperor hadn’t bothered expanding the empire past them. No enemy would ever make it over, not without significant effort.
My thoughts roamed as we flew. I’d fled Dream to save Kovis as well as Wake from Father and his schemes. I’d sacrificed my family, my future, become mortal, for a cause I believed in with my whole heart. But despite all that had happened, it hadn’t changed anything. Father still threatened Wake. And worse, I began to wonder if Kovis and I would ever have the happily ever after I longed for with him.
I forced my thoughts to imagining what it would be like returning to Dream and seeing my family again. The wind wiped the moisture that welled up from my eyes. How I missed them.
We flew over several towns and villages. I wasn’t worried about being spotted. No one ever looked up, and even if they did, who would believe? We soared over a river some time later. Despite the cold, it continued flowing with ferocity.
The sparse tree covering eventually surrendered to plains that looked like an artist, perhaps Kennan, had gone crazy painting with white, flaxen-yellow, and brown.
My ears and nose had started aching ages before, but by the time the sun was halfway to the horizon, I could tolerate the cold no longer. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering. With the wind whipping past, it was impossible to talk to Kovis—how I wished he would open our bond—so I motioned, pointing down.
We landed, and the first ray of sunshine I’d seen from him in ages shone when he smiled. “We’re making good progress. At this pace, we should reach the coast within a sennight.”
“That is good news. When we reach the sea, do you suppose we’ll be able to fly over water?” I hopped up and down and blew on my frozen fingers, trying to work some warmth into them.
Kovis furrowed his brow, then shook his head. He didn’t comment on my calisthenics. “I’ve no idea. It’s not solid like land. Our cushions of air might sink. I guess we’ll find out. But it would beat finding a ship to take us to Sonmel Island.”
I pushed my cloak behind my shoulders and tried jumping jacks, but with all the layers I wore under my leathers, I nearly cried out in pain the first time I threw my arms above my head.
Kovis took to running in place. While he looked funny, like a tent bobbing up and down under his cloak, he looked more dignified than I did, so I mimicked. My ears and nose stopped aching soon after. My core finally warmed, and I even broke a sweat.
“I’m ready to keep going,” I declared.
He caught my gaze and then looked to the ground. In a hushed tone he said, “Thank you. For giving me space to grieve. It was nice not going through it alone.” Unbidden, my brain added “like usual,” but I kept quiet.
“Any time, Kovis. I’m here for you. And if you ever want to talk more about it, I’m happy to listen. No doubt it’ll take a while to work through.”
He pressed his lips in a line.
I wasn’t sure how to interpret the gesture. I hoped it was just his way of acknowledging my words, not a decline. He was still hurting, and it was probably just too hard to talk about.
I buttoned my cape, and we returned to the skies. Kovis still held his side of our bond closed, but he’d loosened up. Or maybe I was just hoping. But he seemed to look around and appreciate the scenery more.
Kovis pointed at a city we approached off to our right a short while later. He’d mentioned that we would pass Vaduz’s capital, Colmar, so I assumed that’s what it was. Similar to Flumen, several large structures dotted the landscape. One of note was a large oval that I s
peculated served much the same purpose as Flumen’s arena. It seemed the former emperor’s resources had been put to good use and Rasa would have a stiff battle if she was to ever eliminate The Ninety-Eight.
We landed as the sun kissed the horizon. I was again chilled to the bone and my ears ached, but we’d made significant progress. A lightness we hadn’t known in ages infused both of us, which was a good thing because it promised to be a very cold night out in the open without blankets and no fire since there was nothing with which to build one. Only the thought that we’d hopefully be in Dream with warm temperatures within a fortnight, or sooner, buoyed my resolve to hold my tongue and not complain. I just hoped it didn’t snow despite the sky looking pregnant with it.
I stooped and gathered a handful of snow, packed it and popped the ball into my mouth. At least water wasn’t scarce.
Kovis scanned the area. “I see no sustenance. We’ll have to ration what little we brought and hope we can find more to eat when we get to Wood.” Translated, we’d be cold and hungry tonight.
After we’d both had our fill of melt, I blew what snow remained from a circle of barren ground with my Air magic. If we had to sleep in the open, we didn’t have to endure wet clothes. Kovis still set his wards, even though I couldn’t imagine any predator being crazy enough to be out in these parts. I couldn’t even imagine mares way out here. No, only we were this insane.
I wrapped my cloak more tightly, then sat down. Kovis followed.
“How will we stay warm without blankets or a fire?” It wasn’t an innocent question. I wanted to get a read on “us.”
Kovis gave me a long look but finally said, “Body heat.”
While his words were what I’d hoped for, my chest felt heavy seeing his reluctant posture. It told me everything. He’d appreciated me being there for him earlier, but it hadn’t swayed him otherwise.
An overwhelming feeling of loneliness came over me. I longed for someone to talk to. I'd come from Dream with Kovis as my hope and I'd focused on him—I’d have shattered if I hadn't—losing my family and everything I knew for him and for Wake. Along the way, I'd convinced myself only he could understand who I really was. I hadn’t told anyone about my past other than Kennan. Not Haylan, much less Hulda. But in this heartbeat, I realized that Kovis couldn't be my focus. He was prone to upset, and when he was, my whole world was upside down. My actions had been the cause this time as well as last, but it seemed unhealthy. He hadn’t let me explain. I loved him wholly, but he couldn't be my focus, not to the exclusion of everyone else. I needed balance.
Dusk fell then morphed into darkness. It was just as well since there was nothing to do but try to sleep. I felt emotionally numb, which made me more tired, so I lay down. I chided myself when I thought back to my hopes from early this morn of the cold forcing intimacy whether he liked it or not. I’d been a fool.
I didn’t plan to remove a single layer of clothing. I would need every stitch on me to stay lukewarm, forget about hot. I curled into a ball, arranged my cloak tightly around me, then popped my head inside my cocoon.
Not long after, Kovis spoke through my cape. “We won’t be able to exchange body heat if you keep your leathers on, Ali, and you’ll freeze to death.”
I pushed my head through the top of my cape. He just looked at me. I knew he was right, but it was freezing. “Fine, but I’m keeping my braises on.”
“As I would encourage,” he agreed.
I climbed out of the beginnings of warmth and shed my leathers faster than ever before, then scrambled back into the sandwich of my cloak. Kovis climbed in behind me then threw his cape over us, and we tucked it in around.
While it was stuffy under two capes, in not too long, I began to feel his heat—through a double layer of braises—but heat, nonetheless. Blessed warmth. Kovis was an engine, and with his arms wrapped around me, I began to relax. Unlike before, his hands remained still, but weariness overwhelmed me before I could mourn the loss. I let sleep claim me.
Nature had laid another blanket over top us during the night, a good two-finger thick blanket of snow. And she’d done it without a sound. Our leathers were piled with the white stuff.
Only the thought that in just a few more suns we’d be in Dream, made the sudden frigid cold and stiffness bearable as we shed our cocoon, brushed precipitation off our leathers, and dressed. I couldn’t imagine how miserable our night might have been without the cloaks and Kovis’s warmth. Even though he hadn’t warmed to me, he’d still warmed me.
I nibbled a few remaining seeds that I’d stowed in my cloak pocket, but with nothing more to eat and no fire to tend, we were back in the skies in no time. I ignored my stomach’s rumblings as we flew over more desolate land. A cluster of homesteads popped up every now and again but not much else. With the monotony, my thoughts returned to last night. It seemed rest had done me good for my mind bested my emotions and I warmed to the realization I’d had. No matter what happened between Kovis and me, I would always love him, but he would no longer be my Altair or even Alshain-star.
This thought would have sent tremors through me when I’d first arrived. Now, it felt… right. I’d endured much, and my trials had changed me. They’d given me a different perspective. I thought about Haylan and Hulda, Myla and Arabella, and all the other apprentices and master healers. I couldn’t wait to see them again, and when I did, I wouldn’t be closed to telling them about my past, as unbelievable as it might seem to them. They were my friends… my Wake family… and I needed to treat them as such. No more holding back. They loved me and would accept me for who I was. The thought warmed me.
The next two suns proceeded much the same. We flew for a while, landed to thaw, then it was back at it. The terrain still held no trees, and only the wind forced any signs of life as it played with the dead grasses, making them bow and sway.
By the time the sun crested in the sky the following sun, the landscape had mercifully shifted from boring, snow-covered plains back to tree-studded, and the terrain had turned hilly. But with the land’s transition, the sky had also shifted into a somber gray. I prayed the snows held off.
I’d been focused on the land as we flew, but a sudden, overwhelming sensation assaulted my senses. Magic. I felt it wrap itself around me like the arms of an old friend.
We’d been outside Elementis for five, nearly six, moons counting The Ninety-Eight competition, and I’d acclimated to the feel of thin magic. But I knew the heartbeat we crossed into Wood province, because a wave of magic crashed over me—it felt like coming home. I took a deep breath. Considering I hadn’t had magic for even an annum, the strength of the feeling surprised me, but there was no mistaking it. My body suddenly felt… right again.
Only now that we’d plunged into the flood of it did I realize that magic had been thickening as we approached, but it hadn’t yet been dense enough for me to notice.
Kovis was smiling, and I speculated he was enjoying the feeling much the same as me.
We flew toward towering trees, but the closer we got, I realized they weren’t just trees. Had it been summer and they flush with foliage, I probably wouldn’t have spotted the suspended walkways linking them together into a huge hive. It was clear we approached a city, and not a small one either. I could make out people walking about, lots of them.
I nearly squealed with delight when I picked up on the first wisps of Wood magic living within the sorcerers below. I hadn’t gotten to use my Simulous affinity in too long, and I itched to do something with it. Just for fun.
Making sure my Air magic kept me aloft, I scanned the area and pulled just a thread of power from several sorcerers, as I’d done so many times before. They would never miss it, but the rush of accumulating it was indescribable. I wondered if this was how sorcerers felt on winter solstice.
What to do with it. I grinned as I carefully balanced on my winds, then directed power at a particularly large tree we approached. In the blink of an eye, tiny green buds materialized and grew into mature leaves, decor
ating the monolith as if spring had arrived early.
Kovis glanced over with raised brow. I gave him a playful shrug.
We’d barely cleared the city when I motioned to land. I was cold, yes, but more, I was starving, and with the Wood magic I’d stored, I was ready to grow something—even vegetables sounded good—and gorge myself. How I loved Elementis as well as my simulous affinity.
Sometime later, with bellies full of tomatoes, beans, and apples—the seeds and tree I’d most easily located and forced to bear fruit—we continued our journey. I’d never eaten a meal quite that diverse, but I wasn’t complaining.
The snows held off, but the skies didn’t lighten by nightfall. If anything, the clouds seemed to be growing darker, as if frustrated that they couldn’t send their abundance down on Wake. We held up in a copse of trees and erected a primitive lean-to of branches and twigs that I magicked together using a vine I found—I grew a tendril and bound the branches together. It wasn’t perfect, but if precipitation found us, we would have some covering. It was more protection than we’d had in ages, and despite still being outside, it also kept the wind at bay. I quickly fell asleep in Kovis’s arms.
The clouds hadn’t slept, as I discovered when I woke. They were dark gray and hid the sun, making it look as if it were dusk. Kovis wore a furrowed brow and kept scanning the skies as we gulped down apple leftovers. He didn’t have to open our bond nor speak for me to understand his concerns.
“See those mountains? Those are the Lapides,” he said. “We’ll reach Terra in not too long and head toward Cochem Pass. If snows catch us, we can shelter in one of the caves.” I was glad to hear that. Kovis went on to explain that crystal and gemstone caves populated much of these mountains.
Of course! I’d known it from Hulda’s stories. Her family lived in Terra. Yet until Kovis said it, I hadn’t put the pieces together.
These mountains were where gemstones of incredible quality were mined and where master Terra-affinitied craftsmen like Hulda’s father and brothers practiced their trade. I glanced at the rich blue teardrop sapphire on my finger. Small diamonds hugged it about its circumference. All of these stones, tiny treasures, had come from these mountains. They’d been mined from this very ground, then over three annums, painstakingly cut to form this beautiful embellishment. Awe filled me.