Telyn spared him a quelling glance, and then returned her attention to Sala. "Explain."
Sala bounced through the air in the room, a tiny flare of light shooting through the dimness.
"Neither physical nor spiritual purity contain Fire's essence. She who is driven by either physical or spiritual passion has experienced both love and hate. Why else would the World Forge choose a warrior-woman? Fire's Chosen must be possessed of both a physical desire that is deep and enduring, and a spiritual sense of self which can lead her to righteous anger and equal humor. That is why Sele failed to recreate the rites before. She was too pure."
"Wait. You're saying she's actually tried these rites, before?"
Sala paused, and then bobbed in agreement. "After a fashion. But she always failed, and she will continue to do so."
"Why?" Nacaris wanted to know.
"Ceremonial Majik requires something Elemental Majik shuns -- purity. For Ceremonial Majik, a practitioner must be at very least pure of intent, and it is preferred the practitioner be pure of spirit, as well. Such is not required for Elemental Majik. Nature is not formed in sterile absolutes, and neither are we, as its servants. To work the Majik of the Elements, the Majin must embrace his or her own true nature, whatever manner and form that takes."
Telyn sighed. "So, if we assume that finding Sele will also lead me to the Book, I guess that means I'm on the right trail." She glanced at Nacaris. "I don't know if we'll find Brun-Gild along the way, or not."
"The fire dims, and I must be away. I leave you to plan." Sala floated back into the fireplace, and the fire suddenly doused itself into little more than hot ash and a few smoldering coals.
Telyn swallowed hard, suddenly edgy now that she was completely alone with Nacaris.
"I don't know how to do this," she admitted quietly.
"Shh." He touched a finger to her lips, stilling her. "I understand there are things you can't share with anyone. I'm only asking to be a part of what you can share."
His face filled her vision, and Telyn's eyes widened as his lips replaced his touch against her mouth in a soft, gentle kiss she never expected from this battle-hardened man. Enclosed in his embrace as he released her lips, Telyn allowed herself to sink against the leather of his tunic and breathe in the scents of man, horse, and travel that clung to him. It was a comforting scent, underscored by something dark, dangerous, and uniquely Nacaris. She sighed regretfully. "I wish--"
"What?" He nuzzled her hair, and stroked a hand lightly over her back. "Talk to me, Telyn."
She stifled a mirthless laugh. He had no idea how much she struggled to keep her thoughts from him -- she already feared they were doomed. "I wish it could always be like this."
"What, always on the hunt? Roaming endlessly, without a home?" He squeezed her lightly. "Be careful what you wish for, balnyt. Nature is both a capricious and mischievous mistress. You may get what you want, in ways you least desire."
Telyn shuddered, hearing the ring of prophecy behind those teasing words. She wasn't fool enough to test them just now. Instead, she burrowed into his embrace and allowed herself a rare moment to be something other than a warrior.
"Where are you from, originally?" He'd never mentioned it, and everything about him was a contradiction. He garbed and adorned himself like a Borderlander, rode a Gild warhorse, and yet claimed to have spent enough time in the Endlands to know their customs and naming easily. "The truth, this time."
He sighed. "I'm from a land on the other side of a benighted wood -- a mystical place few foreigners venture."
She drew back to look up at him curiously. "Is that why you left?"
Nacaris shifted slightly, and his expression was suddenly uneasy. "Like I told you before, I left when I was just a lad. There were... complications... at home. The friend I spoke of? –The young trapper with a head for stories, and a tendency to dream away the days? As children, we had a friendly rivalry, getting each other with bold pranks. But one went terribly wrong."
When he stopped, Telyn's heart squeezed within her chest at the pained expression on Nacaris' face. "He died?"
His head lifted in surprise. "Not likely. Let's just say that my presence there was no longer a welcome or comfortable one. I was sent away to a distant relation in the Borderlands." A smile pulled up the corners of his lips. "Once there, the wanderlust bit me, and I felt the need to see the world. So as soon as I was of an age to be about on my own, I packed my sack and headed out onto the open road."
She frowned as she realized what was missing from this story. "And yet you never went back. Have you never even seen your friend again?"
He sighed heavily, and dropped his forehead against hers. "No, not once in all these summers. It is not to be."
Anger kindled in Telyn's chest. "Says who? You were a boy, a mere child. Surely they can't hold mistakes of a child against a man full grown."
"No," he agreed quietly, his eyes closing in a pain she couldn't remember ever seeing in him, before. "But I can."
"Nacaris." She laid a hand against his cheek, drawing his attention, and let him read the faith in her eyes. "You're a good man. The most honorable and true I've had the fortune to know in a long time. Don't suffer too long with this burden. Go home, before it's too late."
A flame flared in his grey-green eyes that licked through Telyn's blood, even as he bent to capture her lips in a deep, drugging kiss. When he drew back again, he framed her face with his hands and rasped, "I already am home."
It was as much a promise as she could ever expect, Telyn knew. She allowed herself to burn in the fire of his passion, and told herself that, for now, it was enough.
After a moment, she drew back and smiled at him. "We should go. Lysha's waiting, and there's a lot of work to do."
He rose to his feet, and reached to smooth a wisp of hair from her face. He returned her smile, and nodded. "Let's get to it, then."
As they descended the inn's narrow staircase, Nacaris brought up the subject she'd been trying to avoid. "Who do you think Limbdigger is?"
Her gut told her the Endlander would turn out to be a bigger problem than any of them expected, but she sighed and answered Nacaris anyway. "I don't know. I hate to think that someone in my father's clan wasn't who he claimed to be, but I can't ignore it, either."
"I'll ask around, if you like."
She glanced over her shoulder at him as she reached the base of the stairs. "Why?"
He looked perplexed. "Why, what?"
"Why are you so interested in this? It has nothing to do with Brun-Gild."
"We don't know that. Besides, I think the survival of the world trumps the search for Brun-Gild, right now."
"How do you propose to find out about this Limbdigger?" It was more than idle curiosity. She wanted to know just how well Nacaris knew the Endlands, and if he would continue to keep secrets from her.
He chuckled. "Still testing me, balnyt? Let's just say I have my sources, just as you have yours."
"Only you know who mine are, now."
He grasped her hand, giving it a light squeeze as he lifted it to plant a kiss on the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. "And you'll see how well you know mine, soon enough."
"But..."
"Trust me."
It wasn't, Telyn reflected with a forced smile, like she had much of a choice.
Chapter Thirteen
It took the rest of that day to prepare for their crossing to the holy sanctum of Ulambara. With the swarm of pilgrims come to pray for peace and deliverance -- and Kishfa alone knew what else -- at the Aerai Majin's Shrine, getting ferry passage across the river proved to be more difficult than Telyn expected.
"I only need passage for the day," she argued with the portly dockmaster, righteous anger coursing her veins like a fiery wave. What she wanted to do was jam her bootknife into the man's gullet and be done with it. He'd been nothing but completely unreasonable from the start. But she knew she'd regret any rash actions.
"And so does everyone else. I
t's four gele a person." He didn't budge, his greedy eyes scanning her person and judging what he could demand from her, no doubt.
"That's absurd. River passage anywhere else is a mere copper round."
He shrugged. "Then go cross somewhere else."
He knew she couldn't, the little carrion rat. A wall of mountain encircled the holy sanctum, protecting all but the edge that bordered the water. There was no way in or out but by the river, and with the port fortifications here at Ulambara, she couldn't bring a boat in from outside the city walls without proper shipping charters she had neither the time nor desire to procure. Telyn swore beneath her breath. Nacaris had offered to handle this part, and she should have taken him up on it. She didn't have the patience to suffer fools.
Instead, she'd let Nacaris go off in search of his mysterious source of information about Limbdigger. She wasn't above admitting that his continued refusal to tell her who that source was left her disgruntled. It made her wonder what else he might be hiding from her. Could Nacaris have a whole secret life? She scowled. If he was making a fool of her...
She could admit to herself that her first thought when he left was to follow him after Lysha left to find lodging for the horses and send a message to Lanoki. But the look in Nacaris' eyes when he asked her to trust him had halted her feet, and kept her from following him. She had to trust him at some point.
All of which left her to deal with getting them across the river. She grimaced at the rotund little dockmaster, again. Lucky her. She didn't want to use it, but she did have one last attempt up her sleeve. Steeling herself against what she was about to do, Telyn shoved up her sleeve and loosed the leather gauntlet from around her forearm. Then, shoving her forearm into the little man's face, she glared down at him.
"I'm on official business for the House of Gild. I need to get across the river."
The little man's eyes widened dramatically. "Well, why didn't you say so? For you, Sera, the price is... a mere four gele."
Telyn startled, and then glowered as she saw the crafty grin that spread over the little man's face. Telyn gritted her teeth and fought the urge to do him violence. Clearly, he wasn't about to barter lower fare, no matter what was at stake. She supposed she should feel lucky -- he probably gouged the pilgrims for everything they were worth.
Glaring at him, she turned on her heel and stalked away. She would likely have to come back and swallow her anger enough to purchase his passage tokens, but she wouldn't do so until she had to. For now, she would find the rest of her party, and see if they could figure out another way across.
After wandering the marketplace of the main city for a while, to cool down, Telyn finally headed for the wharfside tavern where she and her companions had agreed to meet.
Stepping into the dim interior of the building, Telyn blinked, and then grinned as she caught sight of Lysha. The tall Borderlander wench had gathered a crowd around her table, but not for the reason a tavern wench would have. Instead, they were chanting and cheering as Lysha arm-wrestled with a huge bruiser who looked twice her bulk and covered in intricate tattoos that marked him as a Vatarian sailor.
Telyn leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb and just watched, even though her muscles remained tensed, waiting for any sign of danger. As she watched, that tension seemed justified when Lysha neatly pinned the man's arm -- roughly the size of a small tree trunk -- to the scarred wooden table. Telyn straightened, wary, as the room fell silent. They were all aware that Vatarians didn't see women the same way as the Gild did. Vatarian men had an unusual view of women -- both protective and domineering at the same time. They didn't take well to being bested by a woman in tests of strength, and the sailors could be violent when angered.
The minutes stretched, and Telyn could hear her own heartbeat in the silence. All eyes remained glued to the two occupants of the small table, and fingers trailed near knives and sword hilts as everyone tensed for trouble. Everyone, that was, except the two people who measured each other with unusual calm. Then, the Vatarian suddenly reared back in his chair as a bellow of laughter burst from him.
"By Helios' balls, gal, you've an arm on you!" The words boomed from him in a mirthful spill. Telyn relaxed at the sound. Lysha clearly just earned herself an admirer.
Lysha grinned back at the man. "I told ye true."
"That you did, gal. That you did. Barkeep!" He bellowed toward the whey-faced man behind the tavern's counter. "A round for myself and one hell of a woman!"
Telyn approached the table with a grin as Lysha looked up and spotted her. "You do know how to make an impression, don't you?"
The Vatarian looked up at her curiously, and then glanced at Lysha. "Friend of yours?"
Lysha grinned. "Aye. Sera Telyn, meet Lagorn Waters. Lagorn 'ere runs a merchant charter from Fallshed ta Ulambara."
Lysha's significant look told Telyn this man might be their last chance to get across the river to the Holy City without beggaring themselves. Telyn didn't need another hint. She pulled up a seat and turned it around, sitting on the chair with her arms folded over the back.
"Good to meet you, Lagorn. You travelling to the Holy City anytime soon?"
He grinned, and winked at Lysha. "Your friend here's just bartered your passage on my ship. We're set to leave at First Mirans tomorrow."
Telyn glanced at Lysha, and bit back laughter. The Borderlander clearly knew how to barter. "Just out of curiosity, what did you plan to give up if you lost?"
Lysha winked. "I didn't plan to lose."
Telyn shook her head and loosed a small laugh. She signaled a bar wench to bring her a pint of amber, which she toasted their new partner with, then watched him down his own brew in one long gulp before he rose to his feet.
"Much as it pains me to leave the company of such lovely young ladies, I must be away to prepare my cargo and craft for departure tomorrow. Lysha, you know where to find my Jeaphanie on the morrow."
Lysha nodded and clasped his outstretched hand in a firm grip of friendship before he headed toward the door.
After Lagorn left them to tend his ship, Lysha cast a curious look Telyn's way. "Where'd Nacaris go, then?"
Telyn shrugged uncomfortably. "He was going to look into the whole kidnapping thing. Said he had a friend in the city who might be able to shed some light on it."
"But yer nah so sure ye believe 'im."
Telyn sighed. It wasn't exactly that she didn't trust Nacaris. She was just tied up inside about what Sala told her. She had no idea who Limbdigger was, and she was anxious to find out. She no longer doubted he was responsible for both the theft of the Phoenix Book and the disappearance of Sele Tora-Gild. She just wasn't sure she wanted to believe he was once a part of her father's clan.
Limbdigger wasn't really a Bathron, she reminded herself with a scowl. He was only masquerading as a Bathron Majin. He was really an Endlander who'd probably spent the century or so since his expulsion from Phoenix Hall building a trade empire for himself by means of Majik, until he heard about a young Gild Mistress whose life was devoted to studying the World Forge and its source. By then, he probably saw his old holy relic as nothing more than a tool to gaining more wealth, provided he could get his hands on someone who could understand and control the power of the Book. But, whatever his reasons, Telyn knew he would never succeed as long as he kept trying to unlock the secrets of Natural Majik with Ceremonial Majik. A dark smile tugged up her lips. He would never see her coming.
Lysha cleared her throat, drawing Telyn's attention.
"I take it from yer silence that 'e really troubles ye."
"Huh?" She blinked, and then realized what Lysha was talking about. "Oh. No, Nacaris doesn't bother me."
"That's good to know." His deep voice spoke from just behind her, and Telyn nearly jumped out of her skin. She craned her neck to look up at him.
"Where'd you come from?"
He chuckled. "Glad to see you missed me."
Nacaris flipped the chair Lagorn had vacated earlier around, an
d sat down, his arms crossed over the back of it. "What have I missed?"
"We've got passage for the morrow, across to the holy sanctum."
He raised one brow in surprise and whistled beneath his breath. "That must have cost you a fortune."
Lysha chuckled, and Telyn grinned as she shook her head. "Not a copper round. Lysha did all the work on this one."
Nacaris' brow furrowed in confusion. "Now I know I'm missing something."
"Lysha wrestled a Vatarian fisher-merchant, and got an admirer willing to take us across."
It was Nacaris' turn to chuckle as he realized what she meant. He cast a wink Lysha's way. "That's one way to do it."
Telyn leaned forward, resting her arms on the tabletop as she studied Nacaris thoughtfully. "Did you learn anything useful from your friend?"
He shrugged. "That depends on what you call useful."
Telyn's heart sank at that. She couldn't tell if Nacaris' off-hand attitude was more of his secretiveness, or genuine lack of information. "What did you find out?"
"Well," he paused, sitting upright with a sigh, and she knew. He was debating how much to tell them. Her gaze narrowed. He wasn't going to keep hiding the truth from her, if she had anything to say about it. "I asked around the market, but the only people around here who seem to know anything about a Limbdigger are the street hawkers. It seems that he, or one of what they call his 'thralls', has approached some of them. He demanded that they sell goods for him, mostly Endlander delicacies."
"What did they get in exchange?"
"To keep half the profits. But they had to be willing to provide him with something more important than gelem, for free."
Lysha sat forward. "What's that, then?"
"Information. Whoever Limbdigger is, he wanted to know everything going on within Gild lands, and he was smart. He knew the hawkers would know that information before the shopkeepers did -- the hawkers move around from city to city, carrying both wares and news, for a price. That he has his finger on the right pulse tells me he's likely got ties to at least one caravan."
Telyn straightened. "What about your friend?"
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