* * *
Jarrett waited on the lowest step of the Stravad Leader’s house. The door opened and Tyla stepped out, holding it open for Kian. When the dog saw him, he dashed down the stairs and Jarrett bent to scratch him behind the ears.
Looking up, he met Tyla’s gaze. She was dressed in a light green blouse with a flowing skirt. The emerald was no longer at her throat. Her hair was bound with a ribbon, but the curls flowed over her shoulders. Sunlight reflected in her green eyes and turned her skin to honey gold. He swallowed hard, afraid she would send him away, but she smiled.
“I thought I’d accompany you to the cemetery,” he said. “I got directions from Allistar.”
“That’s better than I did. I was just going to ask in the market.” Her smile sobered. “Thank you, Jarrett. I really don’t want to do this alone.”
“How did you get away from Muzik?”
“He thinks Kian and I are sleeping late.”
She descended the rest of the stairs and he fell into place beside her. Kian immediately loped ahead. As they started walking, she slipped her arm into his. He stiffened in surprise, then breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing his muscles.
“Tell me something,” she said. “Why did you move in with Allistar?”
Jarrett wasn’t sure what to say, but their connection was such that he knew she’d know if he lied to her. “Kendrick asked me to leave.”
She didn’t respond for a moment.
They came to a cross street and Jarrett stopped their progress. He pointed to where the street curved around and disappeared from sight. “See that house there at the corner.”
Tyla nodded. “The one with the white fence in front of it?”
“And the long walk to the door, yes. That’s Allistar’s house. If you need me, that’s where I’ll be.”
She unlinked their arms and faced him. “Why did you agree to leave?”
Jarrett reached out and ran his thumb over her jaw-line. “He said it had to be your choice, and I agreed with him.”
She reached down and stroked Kian’s fur. “He didn’t convey to me that I had a choice,” she said.
Jarrett didn’t know how to respond. He was afraid to voice what was in his heart. If he did so, would he be forcing the issue?
She started walking again and he moved to catch up. When he was at her side, she slipped her arm in his once more. Jarrett curved his free hand over her forearm and tried not to read too much into the gesture, but his heart picked up pace.
They came to the Temerian market. Jarrett had wandered through here with Allistar the day before, but Tyla’s head lifted and her eyes widened in surprise. The market was a collection of brightly colored tents – reds, greens, yellows – and the wares were displayed on overflowing tables. There were bolts of rich fabrics spilling out of bins, fruits and vegetables in baskets, loaves of bread and sweet rolls steaming in the morning sun. Other merchants sold jewelry or scents, bangles and baubles, and one had a collection of blown glass arranged on shelves. Jarrett and Tyla stopped to look at these and they both gasped as shoppers brushed by the delicate items without notice.
The people laughed and chatted and stopped in the middle of the street to hug one another; however, as Tyla walked among them, they grew hushed and watched after her. She didn’t seem to notice, but Jarrett felt uneasy and pulled her closer. Still, their interest didn’t seem malign, and he caught their whispered comments about her beauty and who she was. The merchants were also moved by her and offered to give her anything she wanted from their stores. Tyla laughed and declined, but one insistent merchant pressed a bangled collar into her hands for Kian. Tyla took it and knelt to clasp it around the dog’s neck.
Kian bore the attention stoically, but once the glittery thing was around his neck, he cast a pleading look up at Jarrett as if asking the man to save him. Jarrett laughed. “You look good,” he said, to which Kian snorted and shook his head.
They angled away from the market and into the city streets. Beyond the wall of the city rose the Temer Mountains, shading the walkways and houses. In their shadow, the houses glittered like gold, the gardens verdant with flowers and shrubs, the fences well maintained. Tyla reached out to touch a yellow rose, running the tips of her fingers across the velvety petals.
“Even the poorest Stravad is richer by far than any of my people in Adishian,” she said.
Jarrett wasn’t sure what to say. Something bothered him about the comment. Not that he doubted what she said, he’d seen it for himself, but he remembered a stray thought they’d shared in her grandfather’s house when Tash had given her the emerald.
“Why do you suppose some people have so much, while others have so little?”
“That’s the unfortunate way the world works, Tyla. I don’t know why.”
“It shouldn’t be like that.”
“No, I guess it shouldn’t.”
The Temerian cemetery sat at the end of a residential street, tucked into a corner of the city. An arched wall separated it from the houses on either side. A gate in the wall stood closed and flowers flowed out of pots on either side of it. Tyla and Jarrett paused at the gate. Kian sniffed around the pots, then settled on his haunches and looked up at them, the bangles on his collar shining in the sunlight.
“You all right?” Jarrett asked.
She nodded, her eyes fixed on a spot somewhere in the cemetery. From where they stood, they could see gravestones and markers lining the avenues. Most of the graves were draped with flowers. A tall Stravad appeared in the walkway, moving toward the gate. He had long, dark hair drawn back in a tail and brilliant blue Stravad eyes. He unlatched the gate and motioned them inside.
“Welcome, Tyla Eldralin,” he said. “My name is Bon. I’m the groundskeeper here.”
Kian immediately entered and began nosing down the avenues. Bon didn’t seem the least concerned about the dog. His attention was fixed on Tyla. Jarrett placed his hand in the middle of her back and turned toward her.
“Do you want to do this another day?” he asked.
“No.” She drew a deep breath, smoothing her hands down her skirt. “I just didn’t think it would be this hard.”
He waited for her to make her decision. After a moment, she moved through the gate and into the cemetery. Stopping in front of Bon, she held out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.” Jarrett translated.
“The pleasure is mine,” he responded. “Would you like me to show you your family’s section?”
His demeanor was so matter-of-fact, Jarrett was impressed. His calm seemed to ease some of the anxiety inside of Tyla.
“Please,” she said.
He led them through the cemetery, past headstones and grave markers that looked ancient, weathered grey with their words nearly indecipherable. Each one was immaculately maintained, the lawn clipped, and the refuse removed. Other newer ones were strewn with flowers or other personal effects. At intervals along the avenues were benches, placed beneath trees, so mourners would have a place to sit during their visits.
At the highest spot in the cemetery, they came upon a row of mausoleums, large stone edifices with elaborate letters printed across the front of them in Lodenian. Instead, Bon hesitated at a simple grave strewn with flowers.
“This is the grave of Cy, your great-uncle Taverand’s father.”
Tyla bent and picked up a lily, running the petal across her cheek. “Who places these flowers?” Jarrett translated for her.
Bon shrugged. “His grave has always been covered this way. Most people bring something to place on it when they come to visit their own families. His memory stands for all those who fight against wrongs no matter how daunting.”
As he translated for her, Jarrett felt a skitter of anxiety crawl up his spine, but he wasn’t sure why. She shifted and pointed at the mausoleums. “Is that where my parents are buried?”
“Yes.” He started walking again, angling up a small incline to the top of the rise. He stopped before the largest stone crypt, emb
lazoned with the names Talar and Shara Eldralin across the front. On the walk before the crypt door and piled to either side of it were flowers, spilling over in a riot of colors. Before the crypt was a flowering tree and beneath it a stone bench. Engraved on the bench was the following saying: May Eldon’s star guide you in eternity.
Tyla sank down on the bench and stared at the crypt, but didn’t go any closer. Kian crept to her side and placed his head in her lap. Absently she stroked him.
“Is there anything else I can do?” asked Bon.
Jarrett gave the man a grateful smile. “No, but thank you for showing us the way. Do you mind if we just sit here for a while?”
“Not at all.” He gave Tyla a quick bow, which she didn’t seem to notice and disappeared back the way he’d come.
Jarrett sat down beside her, reaching out to stroke Kian’s head. For a long time, they just sat, staring at the crypt and saying nothing. Jarrett marveled at the number of flowers mounded against the cold stone. He could see very few in the pile that were wilted, so people brought new offerings all of the time.
Finally, Tyla stirred, but she just shifted so she could lay her head against Jarrett’s shoulder. “We’ve done this quite a lot, haven’t we?” she commented.
He rested his own head against hers, breathing in the floral scent of her hair. “More than one would expect. Are you all right?”
She nodded. “It still feels abstract. I can’t imagine them in there.”
“I don’t suppose they are, Tyla.”
“I guess you’re right.” She reached down and linked her fingers in his. “All I know about their death is that my mother died in childbirth. Tarnow said my father lost the will to live after that. Would he have fought harder if he’d known I survived?”
“I believe he would have, but he loved her so, I don’t know if he could have lived without her,” said Jarrett. “No one in my house would speak of it, especially Shandar, but once I got Lawyan to tell me a little. He told me that your father gave up the moment he felt her die. He could remember that moment as if it was permanently etched in his mind.”
Tyla didn’t respond and he let her have her silence. It was enough for him to sit there and share the moment with her.
* * *
After leaving the cemetery, Tyla found herself in a pensive mood. She didn’t want to go back to Farad’s house and she didn’t feel up to the difficulty of translation with her grandfather. When they came to the business section of Temeron, Tyla spotted a café with iron tables in front of it, covered with bright orange umbrellas. Rows of potted plants separated the dining area from the street, the flowers cascading over the sides and trailing across the cobbled walkways.
“I’ve never eaten anywhere like this before,” she commented.
Jarrett eyed the place, then shrugged. “Let’s give it a try. That is, if they accept Nevaisser coin.”
Tyla followed him to the doorway. A man greeted them, bowing and cooing over Kian. Jarrett exchanged a number of words with him and then the man motioned with his hand toward the outdoor dining area. He led them to a table in a back corner where they could still see the street, but their conversation would be private.
He held the chair for Tyla as she sat and then picked up a pycantra starter and ignited a candle in the middle of the table. Dusk was beginning to fall around them.
Jarrett sat down and Tyla motioned for Kian to crawl beneath the table, where he stretched out across Tyla’s feet. She looked around, a little awed by the other diners casually eating and conversing in close proximity. She could tell a few of them were muttering about her and the dog, but it didn’t bother her.
Jarrett and the man exchanged a few more words, then the man walked away.
“Will they take Nevaisser coin?” she asked.
“He said it was no problem, although I think he would have served us without it.”
Another man approached them. He wore a white apron around his waist and bowed low when he came to the table. He directed his words at them both, but Tyla was at a loss. She had no context upon which to base this conversation, so Jarrett took over.
After the server took his leave, Tyla shook her head in astonishment. “I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t even know how to behave.”
Jarrett laughed. “That’s a bit obvious, but I placed an order for us. I hope you’ll like it.”
Tyla smiled. “I already do. It doesn’t matter what else happens. I’ll never forget this experience.”
A comfortable silence grew between them. The buzz of conversations from the other tables provided a barrier around them. Even as the sun faded and darkness fell, the temperature remained comfortable.
“Was it hard seeing your parents’ crypt?” asked Jarrett.
Tyla ran her foot along Kian’s back and the dog sighed in contentment. “Not hard,” she answered. “How do you miss what you never had? Their deaths don’t seem real to me – at least not as real as Tarnow’s. I guess that’s strange, isn’t it?”
“I think I understand. It’s sort of the way I feel about my father. How do I miss what I never had?”
“In a way, you did have a father. The way you talk about my uncles, especially Lawyan, leads me to think you thought of them as family.”
Jarrett smiled. He had a smile that lit up his face, softened it, made it younger. It also accentuated the blue of his eyes. “You’re right. They did all the things that fathers are said to do – encouraged me, scolded me…well, Shandar did most of that. From the moment I went to live with them, they were there for me.”
The waiter returned and placed a wine bottle and two glasses on the table. He spoke to Jarrett, who nodded, then uncorked the bottle and poured wine into each of their glasses. He slipped away without a sound.
Tyla lifted her glass and took a sip. The wine was warm and mellow, leaving a woodsy flavor in the back of her mouth. “Tell me about Shandar. You talk about Lawyan and Shad the most. What’s Shandar like?”
Jarrett settled his own glass on the table. “He’s hard to get to know, Tyla. They were all wounded by your parents’ death, but Shandar never got over it. So much of his life was spent protecting your father, it was like he lost his purpose. He tried to transfer that purpose to your brother, but when it was obvious Kalas had chosen a path completely opposite your father…”
Tyla flinched and sat back.
“I’m sorry,” Jarrett offered.
“No, it’s all right. It’s the truth, but he wasn’t always like that, Jarrett. Not when we were young. He took beatings for me, did everything in his power to protect me. Something happened to him when I left Sarkisian. He hardened. And yet, sometimes when I look at him, I still see the boy who whispered silly stories to me in the dark of night.”
Jarrett reached out and took her hand. “In some ways, this is harder for you than all of us, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Being in Temeron.”
She ran her thumb across the back of his hand. “It is.” She looked out at the street, at the hustle of people moving along the walkways, laughing, stopping for conversation. “I’ve never known anything like this. I see these beautiful people, enjoying life, and then I see Adishian and Sarkisian. I see mothers huddled over their starving babies, and I see young men coming back from the mines missing limbs. I see old women with crippled backs or soldiers going to war. It’s hard for me to reconcile it.”
“Rarick wanted to use you as a weapon against those people, Tyla.”
“I know,” she said, covering her eyes with a hand. “I know he did, but am I any better? I left them to fend for themselves, I turned my back on them. I walked away from my brother. And while I’m sitting here, eating in this café, they’re starving.” She lowered her hand and met Jarrett’s gaze. “I’m sorry. That isn’t what I wanted to talk about tonight.”
He searched her face intently. “I know. I wish I had an answer for you.”
She shrugged. “There isn’t one.”
&
nbsp; The waiter returned with their food and Tyla laughed. “There’s enough for four people here.” She shot a look at Jarrett, but he continued to study her, ignoring the arrival of their meal.
* * *
Kian nosed ahead, sniffing in the bushes and pricking his ears at sounds only he could hear. Tyla and Jarrett wandered behind him, content to let the night deepen around them. As the temperature dropped, Jarrett slipped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She hugged it around her and hooked her arm through his, resting her head against his shoulder.
Overhead the sky was clear and a myriad of stars shone down, illuminating the walk and chasing away the shadows. Lights glowed from inside the Stravad houses and Tyla could hear the clink of dishes as meals were cleared.
They came to the gate of the Stravad Leader’s house and Tyla turned to face Jarrett. “I really enjoyed dinner,” she said. “I didn’t realize how much I could enjoy something so simple.”
He smiled and reached out to brush back a strand of hair. “I think it was the company.”
She caught his hand in her own and held it against her cheek. “Yes, it was.”
“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked.
She felt a flush of disappointment. She sensed he wanted to spend the day with her and she wanted to do so, but she had obligations, always. Her life was a list of the obligations. “Farad’s joining me for lunch at Thalandar’s house. He’s going to translate for me and my grandfather.”
Jarrett’s face fell.
Tyla was surprised at the rush of irritation she felt – not towards Jarrett, but towards her situation. All of the Stravad around her did as they pleased with their lives and never had to explain it to anyone else. Why couldn’t she? It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with her grandfather, she just wanted to explore these feeling she had with Jarrett.
“It’s all right,” he said, curling his fingers around her chin. He tilted her head up until their eyes met. “There will always be another time.”
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 40