by Jann Rowland
“Not necessarily,” River said, speaking up. “He could be blocking part of himself off from you.”
“I know his heart,” Tierra said. “There may be no way for me to convince anyone of that, but it is true.”
“You may be bound by Terrain’s gift,” Canyon said, “but there are many difficulties ahead of you. You must know that Terrain cannot be happy that you are using something so sacred to connect yourself with a descendant of Celesta.”
“I like to think that Terrain would be proud to see some of his people attempting to move past ancient prejudices to create a better world for all.”
“That seems a little presumptuous, does it not?” Canyon asked quietly. His softness appeared to be an effort to make his words sound less like a condemnation. “Can we think to speak for Terrain in this matter? Everything from the Book of Earth suggests he would not like an alliance between his people and Celesta’s.”
“Then how do you explain the inspiration I received from Terrain himself?”
The way the king’s attention became firmly fixed upon Tierra reminded her of a garm with ears rising in response to an unexpected noise. “Inspiration?”
“When Skye returned to the ground realm after escaping from his father, he was captured by my mother’s soldiers and scheduled to be executed.” Tierra’s memories transported her back to those hopeless days when she had begged that Skye be given mercy, knowing that her heart would be removed from her breast if she failed to persuade her mother.
“I had wracked my brain for a way to release him,” Tierra continued, “but it seemed hopeless. Desperate to find some way out of the mess, I found myself sitting beside the Pool of Terrain. I don’t even remember how I got there. And do you know what happened then?”
The king shook his head and awaited Tierra’s response. For her part, River was listening carefully, as Tierra had never shared the details of her experience with her. In fact, the only person in the world who knew the truth of the matter was Skye. If that was not a testament of her feelings—her decision to share one of the most personal experiences of her life with the man who held her heart—then these people would never be convinced of the depth of her love for Skye.
“I sat beside the water, trailing my hand in it, and then I offered up a prayer in my heart. And it was answered. ‘Use the water,’ a voice said. And I knew how to save him.”
River started at Tierra’s words, and Canyon asked, “Did you not consider the fact that your life would be tied to the Skychild if you acted in such a manner?”
Tierra looked at the king calmly. “I was already tied to Skye by that point. Do you think I would have been able to stay in the castle, knowing my own family had murdered my beloved, a man whose only crime was to be born a member of a different race? No, I could not have done so. Being bound to him was not a consideration. Being able to save him was what mattered.”
“Did you actually hear the words spoken to you, Tierra?” River asked in a strangled voice.
“No, but that did not make them any less real. I had nothing. I could do nothing. I knew the man I loved was to be executed, and I had no way to prevent it. And then, suddenly, I did.”
“Celesta may have tricked you,” Canyon said.
Tierra regarded the man with disbelief that soon turned to derisive laughter. “Do you give Terrain so little credit? Is Celesta’s arm so long that she can reach out from the skies and influence me, even as I sit in one of our god’s holiest places?”
Rather than becoming offended, Canyon only regarded Tierra with a thoughtful expression. “No, I would not expect such a thing. But Celesta is known to be a trickster, and the possibility that she has deceived you is great.”
“Your Majesty,” Tierra said, her tone formal but firm, “I would ask you—and all your servants—to leave this matter alone. You will never convince me. I lived these events, and I know them to be true.”
Tierra turned to River, noting her pale expression. “I know you have never liked Skye, cousin. I also know that you think me daft for falling in love with a Skychild. But did you not also tell me you were happy that I had finally found my place in the world?”
River hesitated for a moment before giving a nod.
“Then I would ask you to also leave this subject alone.”
Tierra’s gaze took both River and Canyon in. It might have been considered disrespectful to speak in such a manner to a king, but since she was a princess and would soon be marrying a king herself, Tierra considered herself to be on the same level as this man.
“I believe you, Tierra,” River said abruptly, reaching out a hand to grasp Tierra’s. “You have my support, regardless of what comes.”
“Thank you, River,” Tierra replied, touched by her pragmatic cousin’s gesture.
Then Tierra turned to the king, daring him to say anything further. The man met her bland look with one of his own and shrugged.
“It seems to matter little now, seeing as how you are my guest at present.”
“And do you plan to keep me as a ‘guest’ forever? You still have not been forthcoming as to why I have been made a ‘guest’ of Hearth in the first place.”
Canyon’s countenance darkened at Tierra’s mocking tone; it was one of the only times she had been able to provoke a rise out of the man. She decided it was a victory of sorts.
“All will be made clear in time.”
“‘All will be made clear in time,’” Tierra replied, mimicking his words. “I tire of you and Quicksilver and everyone else who speaks those empty platitudes. You talk to me as though I am a child, and you disrespect me by insinuating that I do not know my own heart. Furthermore, you disrespect me by thinking me naïve enough to believe your empty words actually mean something.
“In fact, I am certain you have some purpose in mind, though I cannot fathom what it is. I doubt everything will be made clear in time, as you underground Groundbreathers have proven yourselves to be an untrustworthy people on the whole.” Tierra raised her hand and gestured to their surroundings. “Your existence is based on misdirection and trickery. I might just as well ask you if you are certain that what you are doing is the will of Terrain.”
Rising from her chair, Tierra threw down her napkin and glared at Canyon. “If you cannot leave this subject be and cease patronizing me, then I would request that you do not invite me to dine with you.” Her mind flashed to something River had said, and she told him, “It is far better for you to lock me in my room and feed me through an opening in the bars of my cage like a recalcitrant garm. Just because a cage has golden bars does not make it any less of a cage.”
And with that, Tierra turned on her heel and left the dining room, the sudden clapping of footsteps behind her telling her that River was hurrying to catch up.
These blasted “Chosen” could all go fly through the sky if they liked. Tierra knew what she had experienced and would not be dissuaded. And her love for Skye would never be dimmed.
The cessation of the great war of devastation returned the Groundbreathers to their previous lives, and though many had been lost to the arrows of the Skychildren, the people of Terrain were hardy and industrious. Soon, prosperity had returned to the land, and the Skychildren looked down on the ground realm with envy and festering hatred in their hearts.
Terrain watched his people, proudly guiding them, teaching them how to obey his laws and command his respect. They remained ever-eager to learn more about the powers they had been given, and he provided several generations of Groundbreathers with tutelage concerning what they could do with their fields, with their metals, with their hands.
Though Terrain would always look to the sky with sorrow and anger, he was pleased with the works of his people. His creation had been well-wrought.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Tutelage
The days seemed to mesh into one as the company traveled southward, tracing Tierra’s trail. Fortunately, the land was essentially empty of any sign of inhabita
tion; it would have been almost impossible to track the Groundbreathers’ path if it had been spoiled by the presence of large numbers of Groundbreathers or Groundwalkers or even wild animals.
The company had settled into more peaceful relations after Nimbus’s death. They had accomplished his funeral rites the morning after his attack, and Skye was eager to leave the man in the past where he belonged. He spent the first few days after that watching Griffin, initially distrusting the man who had seemed to be Nimbus’s confederate from the day he had met them, but his fears were soon eased by the chatty man’s changed demeanor. Griffin was nothing less than shocked at his companion’s betrayal, and from that day forward, he remained largely silent. It was this uncharacteristic behavior that convinced Skye of the matter. Griffin was innocent of any wrongdoing.
Almost as troubling as Nimbus’s betrayal was the fact that the Waterweaver had predicted it. Skye was not certain what that meant. Did she or someone she knew have the ability to see into the future? The mere thought seemed ludicrous. But equally inconceivable was the notion that Nimbus could have been working against Skye by allying himself with Wave or a different Waterweaver. Considering how vehemently Nimbus had protested Skye’s decision to save Tierra, it seemed unlikely that Nimbus would have revealed his plans to a Waterweaver. The entire situation was a mystery. Though Skye tried to put all thoughts of Nimbus behind him, his mind kept wandering back to the man.
Fortunately, Skye could afford to be distracted, as Sequoia and Jasper tended to take the lead in following the path of the people who had taken Tierra, with Stone providing assistance from time to time. Yet the more Skye watched Jasper, the more impressed he became with the man’s ability to trail the enemy Groundbreathers. Finally, Skye approached Jasper and asked him directly about how he tracked the group.
Jasper was crouched on the ground and examining the area nearby from different angles. The party had paused for a break, and he was at some distance from the others, attempting to concentrate.
Jasper appeared perturbed at the interruption, but he straightened and endeavored to respond to Skye’s query. “Learning how to track is the product of many hours of work. If you expect some sort of magical lesson that will make you an instant tracker, then you will be sorely disappointed in anything I have to say.”
“I am asking for nothing so dramatic,” Skye said, refusing to allow himself to be irritated by the man’s attempt to brush him off. “Perhaps you can merely pass on a few tips to a curious mind.”
Jasper studied him for a long moment, as though trying to determine whether Skye intended to make a jest at his expense. But then he seemed to decide Skye was sincere, as he began, “There are more clues to look for than simply a footprint on the ground. You look at branches and trunks to see if an animal has accidentally scraped itself while passing through an area. You look for droppings and hair. You hunt for evidence of grazing. For instance, hoofed animals pull the grass upward, making a flat cut. Rodents tend to produce a diagonal cut. And of course, the height that you find such cuts is often a giveaway as to the type of animal that has been gnawing at a plant.”
“So the tracks themselves aren’t that important?”
“Everything is important,” Jasper said, glancing at the ground and then looking back up. “You have to piece together all the clues, looking at them from different angles. The best way for a beginner to learn is to study the path left behind an animal as it passes through a place.”
“Have you studied the passing of horses in addition to other animals?”
“Yes, I have. If the tracks are not too muddled, you can tell how fast a party with horses is moving by the prints left behind. A horse’s gait while walking is different from its gate while trotting. Trotting involves a diagonal gait.”
“And if you don’t find any tracks?” Skye asked. “What then?”
“If a group has gone off the beaten path, you might find leaves that have been pressed down. If you lift up the leaves, you might find prints hidden beneath them.”
“Are the tracks we are following old?”
“They are,” Jasper said. “That is why our movement is so slow at times. A wind can erase any traces of a print in sand in less than a minute. If you are lucky, you will find some tracks in clay. We have been fortunate that we have not met with much rain. A good downpour could erase all our efforts at this point. As it is, many tracks fade in a day or two.”
“Are you fairly confident we are heading in the right direction?” Skye asked.
The Groundbreather shrugged. “A few things are working on our side. For one, it is not likely that a large party of horses will venture too far off a beaten path. Furthermore, the weight of horses tends to press down heavily on twigs and undergrowth. Their paths are more destructive than a rabbit’s, certainly.”
“I’ve noticed you pressing your thumbprint into the soil on occasion,” Skye commented, fishing for more information.
“I do that in an attempt to see if I can determine the age of any tracks I find. Part of it is studying the consistency of the soil and the ridges created when you make an imprint. Like I said, it is not something that is easily taught. It needs to be experienced.”
“Well, you have certainly enlightened me,” Skye said. “I thank you for the lesson.”
Jasper’s brow furrowed. “You are not what I would have expected from a Skychild king.”
“I hesitate to ask what you would have expected from a Skychild king,” Skye said with a snort. “I have the feeling it has something to do with flitting around in the sky all day.”
Jasper smirked. “My mental image of a king of your people bears a certain kinship with the one you have painted, yes. But I would never have expected you to be interested in something so mundane as tracking the paths of animals.”
“And I would never have expected anyone other than Tillman to have a romantic interest in Sequoia,” Skye said quietly.
Jasper shot to his feet. Murder was in his eyes. He bit out, “I have no such—”
“Relax,” Skye interrupted him. “I don’t intend to tell her. But I doubt I’m the only one who has noticed the way you look at her.”
“She is my sovereign,” Jasper said stiffly. “That is all. I would give my life for her, yes, but it is my duty to do that. You need not read anything else into it.”
“I am sick of all this secrecy among everyone. Everybody here is hiding something, and it’s tiresome.” Skye shook his head in frustration. “Jasper, I’m not blind. There’s a certain something in the way you look at each other, the way you treat each other . . . . I don’t know what it is exactly. But when you gaze at Sequoia, you do not see your queen. You see a woman.”
“That is ridiculous—”
“Deny it all you want,” Skye said, keeping his voice low. “But don’t take me for an idiot. For that matter, Sequoia isn’t an idiot either, but she has lost her husband and fears she will lose her daughter as well, so she is in no state to return your feelings, whatever they may be. If she is aware of them, then I am sure she appreciates your reticence. You don’t need to worry. I have no desire to impugn your honor, and I see nothing to criticize about your actions.
“But I have to admit that I am not sure how you fit into this picture. How do you know Sequoia? She called you her friend. What does that mean exactly? I know you were not a member of her guard at the castle. And forgive me when I say that Sequoia is not the type of person who makes friends on a whim.”
Jasper glared at Skye. His feathers had been ruffled, and he looked as though he wished to peck Skye’s eyes out.
But Skye was unimpressed by his posturing and gazed back without flinching. Skye had faced down the Fenik and survived. He was not about to be intimidated by a mere Groundbreather, no matter how skilled in battle and wilderness survival the man was.
Jasper appeared as though he did not mean to back down, but then, abruptly, he wilted. His shoulders slumped, and he murmured something that Skye could not make out.
“We knew each other as children,” Jasper said, his voice barely audible. “She knows she can trust me. Surely you do not need to hear more from me than that.”
Skye considered the man before him. He supposed he had no business prying into Jasper’s affairs, and now that the matter was confirmed, there was no reason to continue his questioning.
It was difficult to explain. Though Skye had seen something telling in Jasper’s behavior for some time now, it was not until recently that he had begun to truly take any notice of it, though the events of the past several days—what had happened at the temple, meeting the Waterweaver, the constant search for Tierra—had pushed the matter from his mind. Skye did not feel the same contempt for the Groundbreathers that he had only a few short months before, but he did not care to involve himself in their personal matters either.
So why was he concerned about Jasper’s feelings? He could have tried to convince himself that it was because Sequoia was related to Tierra, but deep inside, he knew that was merely an excuse. Much though he wondered at such a change, Skye was forced to admit that he was concerned about Sequoia. She was a prickly woman, and at times, Skye felt like screaming when dealing with her. But he also felt compassion toward her and even a certain level of responsibility.
“Very well,” Skye said at length. “I will not pry. I only ask you to continue as you have been. She is still grieving the loss of her husband; she does not need her feelings thrown further to the whirlwind.”
“Have I given you any reason for worry?” Jasper said testily. “I know how to behave.”
“Good.”
Jasper watched Skye for a moment and then shrugged in his usual indifferent manner. “I need to follow the trail a little further to make sure we are not going astray. I will return shortly.”
And without another word, the man strode off into the deepening gloom of oncoming night. Skye watched him go, noting the way he continued to look at the ground, crouching every so often to peer closer at the clues he was so adept at following.