by Jann Rowland
“Thank you, Gusty,” Skye said, forcing such thoughts away. “I appreciate your steadfast support. We will need to trust one another to be able to safely navigate the ground realm and find Tierra.”
“You can count on me, Skye,” Gusty replied, his grip as firm and immovable as Skye’s. “We’ll find her. And woe to any Groundbreathers who stand in our way.”
Skye laughed for what seemed like the first time in days. “Keep that thought in mind as we journey. We might need all the confidence we can muster.”
Squeezing Skye’s hand one last time, Gusty turned and left the room, and Skye returned to his own preparations. Most of his clothing and the other assorted possessions he would require were stowed in a pack for his use, and everything seemed to be in order. There was nothing else for Skye to do but grab his pack and leave. Still, he looked inside his wardrobe, a niggling feeling causing him to stall.
The sight of a box sitting at the bottom of his wardrobe caught his sight at the last moment. Despair welling up within him, Skye collapsed on a nearby chair with the box in one hand.
Skye stared at it for a moment and then opened it on impulse. There, nestled on a bed of white velvet, sat the two bracelets he had commissioned for his wedding to Tierra. They lay there sparkling, a reminder of hopes and dreams, of happier times. They spoke of love and longing, of firm commitment and future happiness. They spoke of the peace of knowing one’s beloved returned all feelings of love and hope in every respect.
“She will still receive them,” Skye said to himself, clenching the box in his hand. “I will find her and return her to her rightful place.”
With that vow, Skye stowed the box in the wardrobe. Then he hefted his sack onto one shoulder and left the room without looking back.
When Terrain, on his travels, walked beside one of the great rivers that had been formed by Cascade the water goddess, the water suddenly parted, and the water goddess appeared from the midst of the quickly flowing waters.
“That garm at your side is swift and sleek,” said Cascade the water goddess. “My waters are lonely with nothing to swim through them and populate their depths. Might you create creatures to fill them?”
“Truly you see aright, Cascade,” said Terrain. “The creatures of the waters will eat that which grows on the river and lake beds, lest the waters become choked and the floods flow over the lands.”
So Terrain gathered the gods again. They fashioned mud from the bottom of the lakes, clad it in the smooth rocks of the stream beds, and set out long bodies with great fins to move and large eyes to see in the depths of the waters. On the sides of the newest creatures, Terrain created openings that would allow them to breathe underwater. He called them fish and bid them travel from the rivers to the seas, growing and multiplying, feasting off the abundance which existed therein.
And the gods fell to their knees and praised Terrain.
CHAPTER
TEN
Travel
“I’m coming for you,” he said.
“What?” Tierra asked in confusion, blinking at him. “What has happened?”
“I’m coming for you,” Skye repeated. “I will always come for you.”
“Skye,” she murmured, feeling a pressure in her chest.
He stepped forward and put his arms around her, tugging her to him. “We’ll beat this. Together forever, right?”
He squeezed her against him, his arms tightening uncomfortably around her.
“Skye,” she protested.
“I’ll never let you go.”
“Skye, you are hurting me—”
“Tierra, where are you?”
“Skye?”
She struggled against the arms constraining her. And then her eyes shot open.
Heart racing, she attempted to take in her surroundings while processing the fact that she had just awoken from a dream.
She was on her side and had been tied down to something wooden—a sledge, she guessed—that was being dragged across the ground. A group of horses with pale-skinned riders filled her vision, walking too close for her comfort. She slammed her eyes shut before anyone noticed she was awake. Her pulse had begun to thrum in her veins. Slowly, she pushed at the bonds restricting her movement. She had succeeded in loosening them when a familiar voice reached her ears.
“Tierra?”
Despite herself, Tierra opened her eyes. A few noises indicating movement reached her ears before the sledge finally stilled, and River appeared in front of her, kneeling down and helping remove the ropes that tied her. “Tierra, are you all right?”
Tierra took a moment to evaluate her physical state. Her head was sore from the blow she had taken, and her body had been mildly abused from being jostled about across rough terrain, but she felt more than capable of movement and even escape if she could manage it despite the fact that River had revealed Tierra’s conscious state.
“I believe I am well enough,” Tierra answered at last. Unsteadily, she got to her feet.
“Good,” River said, relief in her voice. “I have been so worried about you. You would not wake, and I feared the worst.”
“Where are we?” Tierra asked. “And why are you here?”
“They told me I am here to act as your attendant and companion,” River said with a slight grimace. “I am not certain exactly where we are, though. We marched until late last night, and then they let me sleep for a while before we continued on through the forest. You would not wake up. I asked them to have healers to tend to you, but—”
“I am fine now,” Tierra said, stretching in an attempt to get the kinks out of her neck and back. As she did so, she noticed the rest of the party had stopped. More than one eye was now upon her. “Who are these people? I still do not understand what happened. I remember strange men at the castle—”
“Tierra,” River said softly but sharply, her tone filled with warning, “you have been kidnapped by these men. I do not know what they want, but you should be careful about what you say. I think they wish to treat you with respect, but—”
Before River could say more, one of the strange men stepped forward. “Your Highness, are you well?”
Tierra glanced at River before straightening and mantling herself in an aura of authority. She took a long look at the Groundbreather, noting his piercing dark eyes, which were almost black; his erect bearing; and his handsome face. He possessed the swarthy complexion of all Groundbreathers, but it was tempered by the slight paleness which was limited to himself and his fellows, the likes of which Tierra had never before seen. As Tierra gazed on him, she noted that something about his bearing seemed to suggest authority, though he looked at her with kindness.
“I am well. What is your name, sir?”
The man lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “My name is Canyon, Your Highness.”
“Canyon, I suspect your people have no intention of telling me why they have spirited me away from my home, but could you at least give me the courtesy of telling me where my parents are?”
Canyon looked away for a moment, his expression stricken. Then he stepped forward, and though his arm jerked, as though he meant to touch her, he stayed his hand and said quietly, “I am afraid your father will be returning to Terrain, Your Highness.”
The news brought on a deep ache in Tierra’s chest, but now was no time for tears. “And my mother?”
“We do not know where she is at this time,” he murmured.
Though Canyon seemed contrite, Tierra had no intention of easing up on him. “I suppose I should be grateful you are willing to tell me that much,” she said, “but I cannot feel gratitude toward a band of murderers.”
The man’s head shot up. “Murderers? We are not murderers!”
“In my eyes, you are,” Tierra said coolly. “In fact, you are guilty of regicide.”
“He was not the king of the people you see before you,” Canyon said, making a gesture to the other Groundbreathers.
“Oh?” Tierra said, raising an eyebrow. “I know
you and your fellows are able to manipulate the earth. Is my father not the king of all Groundbreathers?”
Canyon gave a tight smile that held a hint of amusement in it. “No, he is not.”
Before Tierra could say anything further, Canyon asked, “Would you like to eat? I believe we could take a short break for you to fill your stomach and get your bearings.”
Tierra flicked her eyes briefly toward River before nodding. “Yes, that would be acceptable.”
A Groundbreather listening nearby offered, “I can fetch something for the princess.”
“I will go with you,” Canyon said. And then the two men walked away and disappeared behind a pair of horses.
River moved closer to Tierra and said out of the corner of her mouth, “Can you contact that hothead Skychild of yours? I know he would come help us in an instant.”
Tierra was abashed that she had not thought of doing so before, and she could only blame her slip on her feelings of disorientation. But when she reached out and felt only a void, her heart sank. Perhaps the band had moved so quickly away from the castle to ensure that she and Skye could not communicate.
“No,” Tierra told River. “I cannot reach him.”
River’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped slightly.
Tierra realized then that the reason River had been so calm was because she had expected Skye to swoop in and save the day. Now that River knew it would not be so simple, her entire mood would likely change.
But while Tierra felt the same inclination to panic, she knew that she needed to keep a cool head. Though she had ridden a horse before, she was no horsewoman, and if she and River attempted to ride away, they would be caught quickly. Even if Tierra and River managed to obtain swords and wielded their powers over the earth with unbridled ferocity, the sheer numbers of their captors would overcome them. For now, it was best to wait for an opportunity. Even if one did not present itself, Skye would find them at some point.
“Do not worry, River,” Tierra said. “Even though we may be prisoners, our jailers do not seem hostile.”
“Hostile?” River demanded, hysteria lashing out through her voice. “In case you missed it, we have been abducted, torn from our homes, and forced to travel with a bunch of men who we have never seen the likes of—not to mention the fact that your father was murdered and your mother forced to flee due to these same Groundbreathers! You have a curious definition of ‘hostile,’ Tierra!”
“Despite what has happened, we are not hostile toward you.”
Tierra took a step back, her eyes whipping around to alight on the Groundbreather who had spoken. The man stood watching them nearby, his posture erect and his bearing aristocratic. Though Tierra was not certain of his age, he appeared to be of her father’s generation or maybe a little older, as the hint of graying at his temples seemed to attest to. He was handsome and well-favored, though the pink of a scar in the shape of a crescent marred the skin of his right cheek. He was also the only one of the company who did not display the strange paleness of the others.
“You will be safe with us, and in due time, you shall be restored to your rightful positions. Before such a thing can occur, however, there is much to be done.”
“Not hostile toward us?” Tierra finally managed. “You killed my father—” She paused and shook her head, forcing back the tears that threatened to leap to her eyes. “You commit regicide, you abduct me and carry me off like a sack of meal on a sledge, and you expect me to believe you do not mean me harm?”
The man smiled, the motion nothing more than a slight upturn of his lips. “It is . . . regrettable that your father resisted us. We meant to take all of you alive. His extreme resistance forced my men to act to protect themselves, which unfortunately led to his demise.”
“And that is supposed to reassure me?”
The man shrugged in response.
Glaring, Tierra sized him up. Despite his protests, she believed he was indifferent to her father’s death. He might not have wanted it, but he did not count it as a loss. Furthermore, there was something about this man, something . . . Tierra could not put her finger on it, but he was not a man she wished as an enemy. Something about him suggested he would go to any lengths to achieve what he desired.
“What about your cohort’s assertion that my father, the king of all Groundbreathers, is not your king? Who else is there?”
The man frowned. “I see Canyon has spoken out of turn. I urge you to withhold judgment until you know all the particulars.”
“And when will that happen?”
“All in good time. For now, you must be patient. You are with us for your own protection, you must understand.”
The man turned to watch the approach of Canyon and the other Groundbreather, both of whom were carrying portions of Tierra and River’s breakfast.
“At present, you must eat quickly, for we must be away. We have a long journey ahead of us, and you must be rested and well-fed so that you may keep our pace. At the end of our journey, more will be made clear to you.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Tierra asked, her voice dripping with scorn.
The man turned back in the act of leaving. “I expect you to believe nothing. For now, it appears you have no choice but to proceed as you are told. I suggest you become accustomed to your circumstances. Your capture was commanded by a higher authority than mine. All will be made clear later, as I have said.”
Then the man stepped away from the group. Tierra watched as he approached Canyon, who was waiting at a respectful distance, and said something to him. Canyon turned his head, appearing irked, but he did not reply. Then the other man walked away, leaving Canyon and his companion to step forward and provide Tierra and River with their breakfast.
“As he said, you had best eat as soon as possible,” Canyon told them. Then he nodded to his companion, who turned and left with him, though they soon parted ways.
“What do you make of that?” River asked in a low tone.
Tierra glanced at her cousin, glad that River had been temporarily distracted from her fears. If Tierra meant to get them out of their predicament, she would need her cousin’s assistance. River would not be able to offer much aid if she were continually cowering in fear.
“I do not know,” Tierra replied. “There is something strange going on here. These men look like Iron Swords, but their gear is different, and they are not paired with garms. I cannot figure them out.”
River sighed, her eyes fixed downward. “I suppose we need to make do.”
Following her gaze, Tierra looked at the breakfast that had been provided for them. It was nothing more than a small loaf of bread, a rough block of cheese, and a few pieces of dried meat. These men were traveling light indeed.
Tierra and River divided the food between them and sat down to eat their bland meal in silence while watching as men milled around them, preparing for their departure. After the rebuke of the unfortunate Canyon, no one seemed willing to approach the pair again, though Tierra thought she saw a few covert glances of disapproval toward the man in charge. She was not certain what to make of it.
Tierra counted a dozen men, certainly too many for two young women to fight off. An opportunity for escape could eventually present itself, though Tierra was doubtful. It was beginning to appear more and more as though River’s initial hope might be their only means of escape. Skye would have to swoop in and save them.
“Did you notice that man did not even give us his name?”
The idle comment surprised Tierra, and she looked at River. “I had not noticed, but you are correct.”
“He seems to be in charge, I think.”
Tierra nodded. “But he is different from the rest.”
“How so?”
Shaking her head, Tierra popped a piece of cheese in her mouth, chewing while she thought on the matter further. Finally, she said, “His stance and bearing remind me of my f—”
Tierra dashed at the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. She wou
ld never see her father again. These muckrollickers had killed him without a second thought.
Forcing the pain aside, Tierra focused on her friend, promising herself there would be retribution for her father’s death.
“He reminds me of my father,” Tierra continued. “He holds himself as the barons do, though I think he is no stranger to a fight. The rest of these men are soldiers.”
Actually, that was not correct, Tierra realized, catching a glimpse of Canyon. He was also different, though the difference was subtle. Tierra was not able to determine his precise position any more readily than she had been able to with the aristocratic man.
Nodding, River glanced around, clearly apprehensive, though still free of the crushing panic that had characterized her manner before.
Tierra and River began watching once more, eating their meager meal while the men prepared their mounts to depart. Tierra looked at the horses with distaste. She was not fond of the large beasts, as long hours spent atop one was a recipe for a night of agony and little sleep. Unfortunately, she would need to become accustomed to them, though she would not have wished such a fate on even Wisteria.
“Wisteria!” Tierra gasped suddenly. “River, what has become of my sister? Did she escape with my mother?”
River turned her head down, appearing uncomfortable at the question, but after a moment, she looked up at Tierra, an apology written across her face.
“I had one glimpse of Wisteria as we were leaving, and she was watching us with her typical condescending expression. She did not appear to be in any distress at all.”
Frowning, Tierra eyed her friend. “What are you suggesting? Do you think Wisteria had something to do with all of this?”
River rose to her feet, dusting off her hands. “She is not here, is she? If this was some coup engineered by someone from outside the castle, then why is Wisteria not here with us? There is only one logical explanation. She must have been working with them, Tierra.”