by B. K. Boes
Not ever.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jabin
Yllin Agricultural Estate, Eikon
7th Cycle of Chenack
989 Post Schism
Jabin woke with a smile. He’d had no visions in his sleep, and today was a holy day, a day of rest. He would attend the sanctuary, listen to Oracle Lan’s sermon, and spend the rest of the day reading in the hills with Mae. It would be perfect. Mae had had a few days to cool off and rethink the concept of Tamonn. When he’d seen her yesterday, she’d only mentioned her meditation and hopes for clarity in her vision, not once referring to the old tradition.
Light-hearted, Jabin readied himself and walked down the stone steps to the house’s first floor. Noba was there. She was getting older, but her biscuits were just as good. Flaky and soft, never overdone. He grabbed one and took a bite.
“Up so early?” Noba said as she put a few raw sausages on the skillet. “It seems every Holy Day you get up a little sooner. If you stick around, I’ll have these sausages done in no time.”
“Thanks, but one more biscuit, and I’m done,” Jabin said. “Tell my mother I’ll see her at the sanctuary, will you?”
Noba nodded, and Jabin went on his way. The sky was a deep, dark blue except for near the horizon where it was shaded with purples and pinks. Small hills rolled long and low on either side of the little road. As he walked through the middle of the small village, he smiled at the quietness of it all. Everyone was waking slowly, taking their time, enjoying their morning. He smelled fresh bread baking from the seamstresses’ little shop and home. The blacksmith’s wife waved at him as she carried a small bucket of goat’s milk inside. Everything felt right.
Jabin came to the gate that led up to the little sanctuary. He stopped to sit under the wisdom tree, to let his spirit renew as he watched the sun rise. He waited. Mae usually joined him there every holy day, but today she was running late. He stood and stretched and looked around. As he was about to see if she was up in the sanctuary, he spotted a folded piece of paper, cream against the black of the wisdom tree’s trunk. It was set inside a little hollow a little higher than eye level.
“That’s strange,” he said out loud as he plucked it from its perch. The seal had no insignia. It was just a blob of red wax. He opened it and began to read.
Jabin,
Please tell my uncle I’m sorry. The Sustainer has given me clarity in the middle of the night, and I must seek out Tamonn. I have to try. I will not say where I’m going. I don’t want anyone trying to stop me. I’ll send updates on my well-being along the way so you all know I’m safe. I trust you to give word to my uncle.
Your friend,
Mae
Jabin’s hands were trembling by the time he got to the end of the note. His mind was racing.
She’s going to hurt herself.
What about bandits on the road?
Where is she going?
With shaky breath, he turned toward the sanctuary. He had to tell Oracle Lan. They had to find her. Stop her. But then, the oracle’s words from two days prior echoed in Jabin’s mind.
He’ll send her back. I’ll lose my only friend.
His stomach dropped at the reality. He shouted in frustration and kicked a root arcing out of the dirt.
If I bring her back before the end of day, I’ll be able to fix everything. She’ll be safe. Oracle Lan will never know she disobeyed him so blatantly. We’ll take a small punishment for running off without word, but it’s better than the alternative.
He ran his fingers through his hair and turned in every direction.
Now which way?
An idea came to him. He knew from traveling with his father that a couple hours from the Yllin Estate there was a crossroads that led to the cities north, west, and east. It was his best shot. Mae had mentioned a lot of noise and a lot of people, which probably meant the woman in her vision lived in one of the cities. If he traveled by pikkan, depending on when Mae had left, presumably on foot, he might be able to catch her before the crossroads. If not, there was a little town there, and someone might have seen which direction she traveled.
There was a good chance he’d be able to pull this off. And if, by the end of the day, he was unable to find her, he would come back, tell Oracle Lan, and risk losing Mae forever.
Jabin rode his pikkan into Sahn Crossing by midday. It was a good-sized town, though not big enough to be called a city of any kind. Shaimek Highway ran from east to west. It was one of the largest roads in Eikon and well-traveled. The smaller road Jabin had traveled continued through Sahn Crossing to the Chavtrion River.
He had forgotten to pack any food, and his stomach grumbled as he smelled something savory coming from the Crossing’s Inn as he passed. j was lucky his father insisted he always carry a bit of coin just in case.
He patted his pikkan’s neck. “Might as well get a little something to eat, eh boy?” He navigated down the road, stopping as a few women with baskets in the crook of their arms walked across. “I should talk to the locals, too. Mae shouldn’t be too far ahead of us.”
The pikkan whinnied in response.
Jabin slid off the pikkan’s saddle and tied the reins to a post outside Crossing’s Inn, which was a large building made from stone. It had a covered porch, and the front of it had real glass windows and an iron door, beat so thin it was pocked with dents. As he opened it, the scent of beef stew wafted out, making his mouth water. He walked up to the counter, relaxing his shoulders at the pleasant atmosphere. The place was half-filled with patrons, eating and chatting.
The woman behind the counter smiled as Jabin put his hands on the counter. He may not have been a full-grown man, but he was tall, which oftentimes let him pass for older than he was. He tried to sound sixteen as he deepened his voice.
“I’d like some of that stew you’ve got brewing,” he said. “It smells delicious.”
“My Pa’s recipe,” she said with her chin up. “It’ll be two silvers.”
Jabin pulled out the money and set it on the counter.
“Coming right up,” the woman said as she pocketed the coins. She walked into the kitchen, the door to which was behind the counter. A moment later she placed a bowl of stew and a chunk of bread before Jabin. “It’s a day for lone youngin’s,” she said. “A girl was here — ‘bout your age — just a little bit ago. Strange young lady, she was. Stars in her eyes about destiny or some such nonsense.”
Jabin perked up. “I’m looking for someone like that. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Dimples when she smiles. Her name is Mae.”
“Sounds like the same girl, though I couldn’t speak for the dimples,” the woman said. “Said she was going north to Nomika. I gave her an extra piece of bread. She was too skinny.”
Jabin sipped the soup, ready to down the whole bowl as quickly as he could. It was a tad too hot, but he gulped it down anyway. He took the bread, thanked the woman, and left. Trying not to run anyone over, he flew through the street headed north. The quickest way to Nomika was to hit the Chavtrion River, which was a slow, lazy river, and head west — upstream — toward the Chava, which was much larger and moved much faster. That river flowed north, straight to Nomika.
If I ride hard, I should be able to catch her before she boards a boat.
Jabin had only been to Nomika once, but he did remember Cottus, the town north of Sahn Crossing. It was a rougher place than Sahn Crossing, named after its founder, Vritak Cottus, a soldier turned pioneer in times long forgotten, except in story books. In Cottus, Jabin’s father had rented a nicer boat, but many of the merchant riverboats were run-down with crews of rough-looking men. There’s no way Mae could afford anything but passage on one of those little riverboats.
He shuddered as he thought of what could happen to her in the midst of questionable rivermen. The ones he remembered did not seem of trustworthy character. Jabin urged his pikkan to go faster. He had to stop Mae before it was too late.
When he finally arrived in Cottus, it was
getting late in the day. Jabin left his pikkan at the same stable his father had used. The man knew Abner but didn’t remember Jabin from the trip more than a year before. Still, he took the pikkan under the Yllin name, as Jabin assured the man he was an errand boy for Abner by showing him his signet ring.
Once his pikkan was secure, Jabin headed straight for the docks. He’d never been by himself in a town so large and so crowded. Trying to look more confident than he felt, Jabin walked the docks, searching the crowd. He kept an eye on the riverboats, too, in case Mae had already boarded one docked there. She’d probably arrived at least two hours prior, which would have given her plenty of time to find a captain willing to ferry her to the Chava River.
More than once, Jabin saw a girl with the same color hair and the right height and fought through the crowd to get to her, only to find it wasn’t Mae. He walked up and down the docks once, twice, a third time. Nothing.
What a fool I was, Jabin thought as his stomach sank with the sun. I won’t make it home by end of day. There’s no way I’ll find Mae in this place, if she’s even here.
He leaned against the stone wall of a building and ran his hands over his face. He was getting so tired. The air smelled of fish and sweat and waste. It was too loud and busy, even as the day was ending. High lamps were being lit down the way, preparing for the dark.
Please, Sustainer. Please, let me find her. Or let her come home on her own.
Jabin pushed off the wall, shoulders slumped, legs heavy.
Might as well find an inn for the night.
Just as he was about to go, he heard his name.
“Jabin?” Mae’s voice.
He turned his head and saw her coming toward him, a big smile on her face, dimples and all. She, too, looked tired, but also exhilarated. When she got to him, she threw her arms around his neck.
“You came!” she said. “I can’t believe it!”
“Mae—”
“This has been such an adventure,” Mae said as she rocked back on her heels. “Caught a ride from Sahn Crossing with a scribe on his way to Patriphos. He’s going to take the river east, or else I’d have gotten a ride with him. Thought I’d never find someone willing to take me west.”
Jabin said her name a little louder. “Mae, I—”
She continued, not giving Jabin the time to finish. “But, I have a spot on a riverboat. They’re leaving in a few minutes. Captain said he likes to float down the river in the light of the moons, and both will be out in full tonight. It’s going to be beautiful.” She tugged his arm as she talked, pulling him along with her.
“Mae—”
“I’m so glad you came,” she said. “I was beginning to regret coming all by myself. I even wished I had asked you to come.”
“Mae!” Jabin jerked away his arm, and she stopped.
“What?” she asked, her smile fading.
Jabin shifted and sighed. “I didn’t come here to go with you. I came here to bring you back.”
Mae’s smile turned completely flat. “I didn’t come this far to turn back, Jabin.”
“This is a bad idea. Do you know anything about the crew you secured passage with?”
“I know they’ll take me where I need to go.”
Jabin shook his head. “I’ve traveled hard all day to catch up to you. Let’s just get a couple of small rooms at an inn. I’ve got enough coin. Let’s think this through.”
“You mean let’s go back in the morning?” Mae turned and said over her shoulder, “I’m not going home.”
“Mae!” Jabin caught up to her, walking beside her. “This is insane!”
“I’m not insane,” she said. “I’m following my traditions. I’m showing the Temple that they can’t dictate how I carry out my faith.”
Jabin laughed out of pure frustration. “You’re not showing anyone anything! No one at the Temple even knows who you are! Do you think if you save this woman it will change things? Do you think it will stop your uncle from sending you away? Right now, we can still fix this. We can tell him that—”
Mae stopped. “Wait. You didn’t tell my uncle?”
“No,” Jabin said. “I thought if I brought you back…” He looked down at his feet. The whole thing sounded ridiculous now.
“I wouldn’t get in trouble.” Mae finished his sentence for him. “I get it,” she said. “But I can’t go back.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed it once before letting it drop. “Goodbye.”
Jabin watched her walk a ways down the dock, turn onto a plank, and board a riverboat. He looked back at the town, ignoring a woman’s curse as she bumped shoulders with him. Then, his eyes were drawn back to his friend. Mae sat on a barrel on the deck of the riverboat. Would she be safe with the crewmembers? Would she be safe anywhere? He walked toward the boarding plank.
I can’t let her go alone. I’ll send a letter tomorrow at the next town. He stepped up onto the plank. My father and Oracle Lan can meet us in Nomika. He took another step.
“Hey!” shouted a crewmember from the deck. “You pay for passage?”
Mae stood and stared at him. She looked as though she were holding her breath.
“How much?” he asked.
“We charge in gold,” he said. “Three of ‘em.”
Jabin fished three gold coins out of his money pouch. He didn’t have much left, but he handed them over. He boarded the riverboat, the sinking feeling from before settling in once again. He sat next to Mae as the boat pushed off. She reached out and took his hand in hers.
As twilight came and the moons’ bluish light began to take the place of the bright sun, Jabin and Mae sat in silence and watched the river go by as men steered the riverboat upstream with a long pole and two large paddles. They’d said in a few hours’ time, they’d hit the next town, dock, and get some sleep.
It was a beautiful night, but Jabin couldn’t enjoy it. Part of him didn’t know why he’d stepped onto the boat, or even why he’d traveled all day in the first place. Every muscle in his body was sore, and it was all for nothing. Instead of convincing Mae to come with him, he’d gone with her.
What have I gotten myself into? Jabin felt sick to his stomach. He held his head in his hands and let out a long, slow breath. And the day started out so well.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kaela
Hodda Nomadic Tribe
Ogche, A Lone Mountain
Desert of Eidolon, Erem
8th Cycle of Chenack
989 Post Schism
A noise woke Kaela from her sleep in the early morning. Sunlight filtered through the canvas, but it was only enough to make the space dim instead of dark. Kaela took a deep breath as she lay there, her body protesting the thought of leaving the cozy comfort of her bedroll and blankets. She squinted and looked around the room for the source of the noise that had woken her.
To her left was a stack of baskets and beside them, a large trunk. All of her family’s personal belongings could fit in those containers. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than enough. Along the opposite wall of the tent, her parents’ bed roll was spread out on the ground. Momma lay on top of feather-stuffed blankets. Another blanket covered her, and she had long pillows propping up her head, arranged along her back, and stuffed between her knees. The mound of her belly under the blanket made her seem one large mass, shifting slightly every so often.
Kaela sighed. A span had passed since Momma had passed out on the route toward Ogche Lone Mountain in southwest Erem. Healer Raz had asked her mother to rest until the baby came, and so she had lain in the back of the sand-sled for the rest of the trip. The Hodda set up a temporary camp near the mountain when they’d finally arrived. They would stay there until their business was done.
Kaela closed her eyes again at the thought of the Hodda’s purpose for being at Ogche. They were going to set up a trade deal with an Adikean representative. And Kaela was supposed to go with them, to learn how to strike such a deal.
It’s a mistake, she thought for the hu
ndredth time.
Another noise drew Kaela’s attention across the room.
Poppa was up, tying his loose-fitted trousers off at the waist. The noise that woke her must have been from when Poppa closed the trunk after fishing out a fresh pair of trousers. Kaela had washed and dried three of his four pairs yesterday. Until the baby came, it was Kaela’s responsibility to take care of most of the household chores.
He smiled when he saw she was awake. “Morning, little one.” He spoke softly so as not to wake Momma.
Kaela stretched. “Did you start the fire, Poppa?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
With a quiet groan, Kaela pulled her legs out from underneath the blanket. A small, folded square of urakma paper fell to the ground from her bed roll. Kaela picked it up, the thick material a comfort. She had fallen asleep with the note from Sava in her hand. They’d gone to the dispatch at the Roshleth Council the day before, and this note had been waiting for her. The Nonnka had passed through Ogche’s Mountain Market two cycles prior, but any word from her grandmother, no matter how outdated, always gave Kaela a boost.
She stood, her nightgown swishing at her ankles, placed the note in a little stone box she kept at the foot of her bedroll, and turned to Poppa. “I’ll get the fire started,” she said.
“I’ll fill the pot,” Poppa said, grabbing the little iron pot they used to boil water. The Hodda had water barrels placed throughout the camp, covered in pitch on the outside and sealed tightly so the water wouldn’t evaporate. Only adults were allowed to pry the tops off the barrels, gather some water, and seal them again. Water was too precious to risk losing.
She glanced at Momma, still asleep. Her gaze lingered long enough to see the gentle rise and fall of the mess of blankets and pillows. The healer had spoken to her father in hushed tones about the possibility of Momma passing into the afterlife. Kaela wasn’t supposed to hear, but she did, and so the signs of breath in her mother’s lungs gave her some comfort.