The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  She rolled to her back, releasing the emerald. “What time is it?”

  “Just after dusk.” He held the cup out to her. “Stamerian for your fever?”

  She fought a cough, covering her mouth with a hand, and he helped her into a sitting position. He noticed that the coughing seemed deeper, centering more in her chest, and she didn’t seem able to take a deep breath. He steadied her hand as she drank, brushing back the hair from her cheek.

  She made a face and held the cup away. “What’s in it?”

  For some reason he didn’t want to tell her. It seemed like a desperate move and he didn’t want to give her false hope, but the look in her eyes was undeniable. “I boiled Zimran’s rocks.”

  She frowned, then reached out and took his hand. “Jarrett, we need to face the fact that nothing’s going to stop this disease. In fact, I’ve been thinking and I think you should return to the beach, make camp there. If Kalas finds us, he’ll likely land in the same spot we did. It’ll be your only chance to get home.”

  He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m not leaving you, so let’s not even start this conversation.”

  “Jarrett…”

  He met her gaze. Her eyes were bright with fever. At her neck, the emerald glowed, chasing back the gloom in their quarters. “I’m not leaving you. I know you think you’re protecting me, but let’s not waste breath on this, okay?” He released her and curled his fingers around the cup. “Humor me. Drink the rest, please.”

  The look in her eyes was bleak, but she lifted the cup and started drinking again. He waited until she finished, then he placed the cup on their table and circled around behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him and banded his arms with her own.

  He kissed the side of her head. “I love you, Tyla Eldralin,” he said, closing his eyes.

  “I love you, Jarrett,” she answered and nestled her face against his neck.

  He ignored the heat she radiated and clung to her, wishing as he had many times, that this was an enemy he could fight.

  CHAPTER 20

  Kalas threw down the logs and pushed himself to his feet, moving toward the windows and looking out. Parish and Dolan exchanged a look, but they didn’t say anything. Allistar closed the log he was searching and pushed it away. Ellette curled her legs up in the chair and wrapped her arms around them, her eyes fixed on Kalas.

  He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, the other braced on the window. “What is the report from the hospitals, Baron? How many have the plague?”

  “New infections are down since we implemented the guidelines for care, but there are roughly two thousand infected and another five hundred dead.”

  “Send word to Temeron. I need to know how many people there are infected.”

  “Done,” said Parish.

  “Inform them about what we’re doing to contain it and ask them if they have any idea how to fight it.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas turned back to face them. He motioned to the logs. “Those aren’t going to tell us anything. We’re wasting our time with them.”

  No one answered. Kalas figured they knew it as well. If he was going to find his sister, they had to come up with something different. “I want to see the Tulip myself.”

  He expected an explosion, but at first they didn’t react.

  Parish leaned forward on the table. “You want to go to Brodie’s boat?”

  Kalas moved back to the table and rested his hands on the top of his chair. He glanced at Ellette, then away. “Yes, I want to go to the boat and I want to go now.”

  Parish shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. The Nazarien are too unpredictable at the moment. I won’t chance it.”

  Kalas tried to still his annoyance for Ellette’s sake. She didn’t like his bursts of temper. “It wasn’t a request.” He switched to Lodenian and addressed Allistar, “Can you muster out your men in the next hour? I want to see Brodie Daegan’s boat and I’d like the Stravad to accompany me.”

  Allistar nodded and pushed back his chair. “Done,” he said and rose, turning for the door.

  Parish shifted in his chair and watched him go, then he also rose. “Listen to reason, Your Majesty, please. We’ve searched that ship from top to bottom and there’s nothing there.”

  “He had to have written the coordinates somewhere, Parish. You just haven’t found them.”

  “He kept them in his head.”

  “But Jax found the island on his own. How did he know the coordinates?”

  “He probably wrote them down. I’m telling you we’ve searched that boat.”

  “Then you missed something.”

  Parish held out a hand to Dolan. “Tell him not to do this. Tell him how dangerous it is.”

  Dolan swiveled in his chair until he faced Kalas. “He’s right. Your people deserve better than that. You owe them your leadership, especially in light of the plague.”

  “What if the cure for the plague lies with my sister? I owe it to my people to find her. She went in search of the cure, now we have to go in search of her.”

  “You aren’t doing this because of the plague,” reasoned Dolan. “You’re doing this because of Tyla.”

  “They’re one in the same.”

  Ellette lowered her head to her knees. Kalas wished they were alone so he could explain it to her, but she just had to understand he would do anything to find Tyla. His sister would always be primary in his concerns.

  “You know the Nazarien have a contract on your head. This is suicide. It was suicide when you went looking before, but it’s worse now,” said Parish. “They know your movements, they know your habits, they’ll be waiting for you. They’ve already killed a number of our soldiers guarding the boat and the minute you leave this spot, they’ll know you’re going there. Don’t do this, Kalas.”

  Kalas pushed the chair into the table and moved toward the door. “It’s already done. Allistar will have his men ready in the hour and then I’ll leave. I’d like your protection as well, Baron, but I’ll leave that to your discretion.”

  Parish rounded on him. “You know I don’t have any other choice. My men will be ready.”

  Kalas paused at the door and looked back. “Which is why I don’t understand the reason for this debate.”

  An hour later, the King of Eastern Nevaisser left his manor home in a heavily armored carriage with soldiers lined along the top and riding on either side. Stravad warriors guarded his flank and the Baron rode at the head of a wide column of infantry. Ellette and Dolan rode in the carriage with him, both sporting an array of weapons and body armor.

  No one attempted to stop them as they headed toward the docks. Kalas watched out the window, but he couldn’t see much beyond the flanks of the horses riding on either side of him. Neither Dolan nor Ellette spoke to him, sitting with their swords across their knees as if they expected Nazarien to materialize out of the air.

  “You know they aren’t going to attack such a heavily guarded vehicle,” he said conversationally.

  Dolan glanced over, but didn’t answer, returning his attention to the window almost immediately.

  Ellette wouldn’t even look at him.

  He leaned forward and placed a hand on her thigh. He could feel her muscles stiffen at his touch. She was beyond mad at him. “How long are you going to ignore me?”

  She didn’t turn, her gaze fixed on the window, her fingers tightening on the sword. She had a knife in the top of her boot and one strapped into a sheath on her shoulder. He suspected there were more weapons that he couldn’t see.

  “Ellette, you know you can’t stay mad at me forever.”

  “I would not be certain of that, Your Majesty,” she said.

  He smiled and leaned back, resting his head on the back of the cushion. “What exactly are you mad about? It helps if you tell me.”

  “As always you are making foolish choices that do not take your citizens into account. You do not listen to yo
ur advisors and you ignore those charged with your protection.”

  “Then why don’t you try talking to me as my lover?”

  That got both of their attentions. Dolan gave him a startled look, then shifted uncomfortably and Ellette glared at him. He gave them both a wicked smile and folded his hands over his belly.

  “Why do you play lightly with things?” she hissed, leaning forward.

  “I’m not, not at all. I couldn’t get a reasonable answer from you, so I tried a different approach.”

  “What sort of answer did you want? What I said is true.”

  “Not completely. You don’t want me going to the ship because you care for me and you wouldn’t know what to do if something happened to me. Why can’t you just tell me the truth?”

  Her jaw clenched and her fingers tightened on her sword. Dolan shifted again, trying to turn himself into the window. Kalas couldn’t help the smile that wouldn’t leave his face.

  He nodded at the sword. “Careful. You might cut yourself, you’re gripping it so tightly.”

  “Sometimes,” she said through her teeth, “I find I care very little for you. You are an aggravating, ridiculous man who knows nothing.”

  “Your Majesty,” he added with a lift of one brow.

  “What?”

  “You forgot Your Majesty.”

  She made a strangled cry and turned to the window, dismissing him. He chuckled, he was having such fun. Dolan wouldn’t meet his eye, so he looked out of the window again. The warehouses were beginning to rise around them, blocking out the late day sun.

  As they neared the dock, the soldiers fanned out and blocked off the streets, bringing the carriage to a halt. Allistar opened the door of the carriage himself and motioned for Kalas to descend. Kalas climbed out beside him and looked around. Soldiers and Stravad were everywhere. If he looked closely enough, he could see armed men manning the rooftops around them. Obviously, Parish had sent an advance guard.

  “Stay close to me,” said Allistar, moving toward the entrance to the docks.

  Kalas felt all of this was going a bit far, but he followed the Stravad as Attis and Dolan moved behind him. Ellette came up on his left side, her gaze turned outward, surveying the buildings and her hand gripped around the hilt of her sword. Kalas couldn’t deny he liked the assertive mien she was displaying. It was far better than the waif curled up in a chair beside his bed. He reached out to touch her arm, but she jerked away from him. He couldn’t help but laugh, a gesture that earned him a glare. Damn her anyway, he was falling for her faster than he expected.

  Parish met them at the entrance to the Tulip. He shot a look around, then moved close to Kalas, blocking him from the boat. Kalas wasn’t sure whether Parish expected Nazarien to spring up from the water like fish.

  “I wish you’d listen to reason, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas crossed his arms. “My sister is out there.” He motioned at the ocean, spreading away in a wash of blue and green around them. “No one can tell me how to find her. Are you so certain that you didn’t miss anything that you’re willing to consign her to death?”

  Parish hesitated a moment, then he stepped back and gestured toward the boat. “As you will, Your Majesty,” he said.

  Kalas crossed around him and dropped down into the boat before anyone could assist him. He was getting a little tired of being treated like a porcelain doll. The Tulip was small, so only Allistar and Dolan followed him.

  He went toward the cabin and ducked inside. It was hardly larger than a closet with a narrow bunk and a built-in cabinet, strewn with paper. He shook out the bedding on the bunk, then piled it on the floor and lifted the thin mattress. Then he climbed into the bunk and searched it, running his hands along the rough wood, feeling for any irregularities.

  “What do you think you’ll find?” asked Dolan.

  “A catch, a compartment that was missed, a loose board.” He climbed off the bunk and hunkered in front of it, running his hands along the facing, searching the floorboards.

  Finding nothing, he went to the cabinet and began methodically going through the papers, reading each one. He was pleased when he saw Allistar and Dolan began searching the walls, the ceiling, the casing around the one porthole.

  Parish stuck his head inside. “My people have already done that, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas ignored him, continuing to scan the papers. They were newspapers, notes from the landlady at the Rose Bud, playbills from the local dance parlor, a few bills for the boat’s berth, but nothing that had any coordinates on it. He swept them onto the bed and searched over the cabinet, running his hands across the surface. He found nothing.

  He turned and watched as Dolan and Allistar completed their search. Dolan gave him a concerned look, but Allistar held up his empty hands in frustration. Kalas drew a deep breath and held it, fighting for composure. Toying with Ellette had taken some of his tension, but after searching the cabin, it came roaring back.

  He climbed out onto the deck and moved to the bow of the boat. Once again, he felt along the surface, ignoring the many eyes he felt watching him as he angled his way around the small vessel. When he came to the stern, Parish was standing by the tiller.

  “Kalas,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll find another way, but there’s nothing here.”

  Kalas looked beyond him at the ocean, swelling and surging toward the docks, the sea birds diving into the waves. Everywhere he looked was a vast wilderness of water, a boundless ocean with no landmarks, no beacons, nothing by which to track another.

  He moved around the Baron and took a seat in the stern, leaning forward to brace his arms on his thighs. The enormity of this task swamped him and he felt a suffocating pressure in his chest. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to find her. Maybe she was lost to him forever. A lifetime of protecting her, a lifetime of fighting to keep her safe and it was over. There was nothing he could do to save her now.

  He was dimly aware that Dolan and Allistar had joined Parish, watching him in concern. Ellette climbed into the boat and pushed her way past them, kneeling down in front of him and covering his hands with her own.

  “Please come out of here. Please. This place is not safe for you,” she said.

  He lifted his eyes and met hers. “I promised my father I would protect her. As I watched him die, I promised him.”

  “And you did. You did everything you could,” she said. She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. “Other people need you now. I need you. Please, come away from this place.”

  He closed his eyes and exhaled. He’d promised Talar, he’d sworn that he would stay with her, protect her from all harm. He’d taken beatings for her, he’d suffered humiliation, debasement, fear and pain for her. How could he just give it up? How could he forget that she was out there? She might need him right now. She might be sick or injured or dying and he couldn’t help her. He couldn’t save her this time.

  He felt as if the world was tilting on its axis, as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, as if his heart would stop beating. He lifted a hand and gripped his chest, worried he might be having a heart attack. With his other hand, he reached for the tiller to steady himself.

  His fingers tightened convulsively around it, holding on, praying the pain in his chest would ease, and there beneath his hand, beneath the frantic grip of his fingers, he felt it.

  Forcing himself to calm, he slid his fingers along the grooves in the tiller and the tightness in his chest eased. The pounding of his heart left his throat and he drew a deeper breath, expanding his lungs. Shifting on the seat, he leaned over the tiller and stared at the numbers carved into the wood, burnished with a rust-brown color, and he knew that Brodie had pressed his own blood into the etchings himself.

  Ellette leaned over him, studying the scratches, then Parish was there, running his fingers across the etchings.

  “I’ll be damned,” breathed the Baron in awe. “I’ll be damned.”

  Kalas slumped back in the seat, fighting th
e unmanly tears that threatened in his eyes. He’d found the coordinates after all.

  * * *

  Jarrett woke and shifted on the shelf, finding himself alone. He threw back the cover and climbed to his feet. Light filtered through the thin membrane of their enclosure, highlighting the fact that Tyla was gone.

  He hurried into the bathing chamber and found the water running, but he didn’t see her. Moving around the half wall, he found her sitting with her back pressed to the wall, the steam of the hot water rising around her.

  Ignoring the spray, he crossed around the wall and sank in front of her. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyes were enormous in her gaunt face and the emerald glowed green in the hollow of her throat. Water or tears made a track down her cheeks and she reached out taking his hand. For the first time since he could remember, her touch was cool.

  He looked at her hand and then pressed his fingers to her forehead. He couldn’t feel a fever.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, deliberately keeping her breathing shallow. “I started coughing and didn’t want to wake you.” Her eyes filled with tears and some spilled over, running down her cheeks.

  “Did you cough up a lot of blood?”

  She shook her head. “No, just spots, nothing worse than before.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  She closed her hand around the emerald. “I dreamed about my father, Jarrett.”

  He studied her closely. “All right?” He wasn’t sure why such a dream would drag so much emotion from her.

  “I’ve been dreaming about him a lot.”

  “You’ve had a fever for weeks now. We dream a lot of strange things when we’re feverish.”

  She wiped the tears away. “They’re not really dreams.”

  Jarrett felt a strange shiver race up his spine. “What do you mean they’re not dreams?”

  “I’m there with him. I can touch him.”

  Jarrett’s gaze dropped to the emerald. “Where with him?”

  “He calls it the mist. He says it’s a place between living and death.”