A Single Spark

by Tayvia Pierce

  The stunning features of his face would have drawn attention on its own, but it was the man’s size that truly caused him to stand out, even though he was seated. He was obviously tall, his broad shoulders thick with muscle built from vast amounts of training. Firm shoulders led to athletic arms that bore black tattoos, marks that I didn’t recognize though I thought little of it, assuming they were something more of a personal nature. His light olive skin was tanned from days under the hot summer sun, making him look darker than he truly was, and amidst my speechless staring, concluded that he was undeniably handsome.

  My eyes held his with my usual boldness, my appreciation for the color of his eyes fading as the intelligence that I saw within their depths fully captured my attention. There was cunning, though not malice like I had expected to see in this town of misfits and scoundrels, and right now he was studying me as much as I was studying him.

  He was up on his feet a split second later, dipping his head respectfully to me as he murmured in a low voice. “Lady Carys. Your brother was speaking of the...unfortunate circumstances regarding your sister…” He spoke smoothly, his low voice like velvet and yet held concern. “Please...sit.” He gestured to the seat next to Iolyn, who was all but sprawled over the table.

  As Ben rose, I could see his attire as he nearly loomed over the rest of us. His sleeveless leather jerkin was nondescript, dark in color with some crimson embroidery, though the weapons that hung from his belt were another matter entirely. Even at a glance, I could see his knives were of excellent make, their features reminding me of what U’sharrim weapons might look like, though I had never actually seen one. They were almost too long to be daggers, but too short to be swords, but whatever they might be called, they were certainly unique. Who was this man, anyways?

  I glanced at Iolyn as Ben spoke, my very inebriated brother taking another long gulp of his ale. I hated that we had to admit these circumstances to anyone, fearing more danger would befall her should rumors abound, but what’s done was done and I turned to give Ben an expectant look and asked lowly. “And what can you tell us of her situation?” I assumed by Iolyn’s exuberant greeting and introduction that Ben had something to share, though my hopes were dashed all too quickly.

  “Nothing, I’m afraid.” He paused before adding. “When it comes to who might do this, perhaps the question to ask in the Badlands is, who wouldn’t? There is no law here but the one they make for themselves, and begging your pardon, Lady, but you stand out in the crowd as very easy and wealthy targets.” His eyes fell to my traveling clothes, my own eyes following to look at my coat. I had thought I blended in well enough, though as I looked around the room, I could see Ben had a point. We looked rich. Very very rich.

  I was not quite certain what his unspoken accusation was, and I responded with a defensive huff. “So you cannot help us at all, then? You are just wasting our time?” I snapped, though my sense of decorum caught up a split second later and I was instantly ashamed with my flare-up, letting out a long sigh, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips as I muttered a tired apology. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. It has been a dreadful day.”

  His eyes narrowed with my outburst, silent for longer than was necessary as he lifted his mug to his lips, setting it down on the table after with a deliberate clink, those storm grey eyes flicking towards the gash in my sleeve and the bandage beneath. “That is understandable. Apology accepted.” He studied me a moment longer, seeming to consider something. “While I do not know who or why, I do know of the ruins they spoke of. I could draw you a map to the ruins to the north where you are to meet them, as I have passed them several times in my travels.”

  Iolyn’s arms folded on the table as his head settled on top of them, his inebriated murmurings just loud enough for us to hear before his eyes drifted shut. “See, Carys? Told you he’d help us. Mister Ben is a fine man.” Iolyn nodded his head against his arms before he went still, seeming to fall asleep in the middle of the rowdy tavern. I snorted softly, eying him doubtfully. He hadn’t said anything of the sort, but I supposed in that ale-addled mind of his, he had meant to.

  Ben smirked at Iolyn, already smoothing a parchment out over the table top before his eyes flicked up to meet mine, my hesitation to so easily trust a perfect stranger blooming over my features. “It is an old plantation from long ago when the Badlands were not a wasteland, though now the ruins are simply called the Bone Farm. It is a less than worthy name for the property, but the locals are not known for their wit or creativity. It is quite open, as all the trees in the yard were felled so an ambush would be difficult for them.” I found that reassuring, though he added. “Of course, an exchange like this is never without risk.”

  I nodded warily, watching as his hands smoothed the wrinkles in the parchment. “You are not a local, then?” I asked absently, my focus on the strokes of the pencil over the parchment as he began to draw a crude map of the area.

  “Local is a bit of a loose term, Lady Carys.” He said cryptically, volunteering no further information, though I chose not to pry. He spoke quietly as he drew a line on the map. “There is a narrow dirt road that heads due north from Soruk’s northern gate. Nearly four miles down, there is a fork in the road. Stay to the right, and follow it down the hill to the plantation. You will know it when you see it, it is the charred pile of rubble surrounded by white bones.” His description sent a little chill rippling up my spine, not expecting the name to be quite so literal. He finished his sketch and pushed the parchment towards me, straightening his posture as he looked down to me. “I am sorry I could not be of more help, Lady Carys.”

  My fingertips caught the edge of the crudely drawn map and pulled it towards me, finally lifting my eyes to meet his. “I don’t suppose you might know any good places that such thugs might hide a captive?” I asked him with a short and bitter laugh, my chest tightening with an overwhelming apprehension. “Or ways to prevent them from slaughtering me when I arrive?” I asked, suddenly realizing this whole scenario might be an elaborate trap and they might just kill me...or add me to their hostage count. Ben’s eyes fixed on my face as my brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, though seemed to change his mind on what he wished to say with the shift in my expression.

  “I’m sure that if you do what they have told you to do, your sister will be fine. The people in this land are more interested in coin than in harming people. If they had wanted you dead, they would have killed you all when they attacked and taken everything you had.” He gave me a consoling smile and I nodded slowly, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

  A gentle snore from Iolyn harmonized with the uproarious laughter across the room and I glanced over to my unconscious brother before addressing Ben. “Thank you for the directions, Ben. If you see or hear anything pertaining to this situation, will you come find me? I would be most grateful for any further information.” I began to rise, leaving Iolyn where he lay slumped over on the table. “As for him…” I gestured to my sibling, frowning down to him without any idea on how to get him to his bed. “I’m sure he will wake soon and stumble to his room.”

  Ben’s lip twitched and he nodded slowly, clearing his throat. “Perhaps you should take his coin purse and other valuables with you, lest he be robbed in his slumber?” Heat poured into my cheeks as I blushed, the idea not having crossed my mind.

  I nodded, trying to maintain my dignity and murmured. “Ah, yes...thank you.” I unbuckled his belt that held his sword and coin purse, mentally adding the contents to our gold total. I dipped my head politely to the man who dutifully rose to his feet. “Goodnight, Ben.” He gave a surprisingly elegant bow of his head, suddenly seeming out of place in this den of rowdy louts.

  I paused only for a moment before turning to leave, ducking quickly through the room as I clutched the map and Iolyn’s things tightly against my chest before escaping into the street. My heart thudded against my chest and I took a deep breath, wishing that I had a guard with me. My steps were hurried as I quickly he
aded towards the Inn’s front door, feeling exposed and alone and it wasn’t until I sunk into my simple bed in my locked room that I felt any safer.

  Falling back against the thin pillow, the tears began to fall at last, one rolling down my cheek followed by another until there was a steady stream and a breath hitched in my chest. Please find her, I prayed to whatever god might be listening. Please bring her home.

  CHAPTER 8

  I slept only a little that night, my tears finally running dry and leaving me too exhausted to stay awake in the late watches. I woke with a start as the sun peeked over the hills at dawn, beads of sweat on my forehead the tangible evidence of the darkness of my dreams.

  I rose, feeling even more rumpled than I looked. I stripped out of my soiled coat at last, bemoaning the bloodstains and the tear momentarily as I hoped Derryth could repair it. My thoughts tumbled over one another as I peeled off the old bandage to apply the healer’s salve to my mending injury. One step to the side and that arrow would have killed me. What if Ben is wrong and they really do want to harm us? Did they take Rhian simply because it was convenient, or did they ambush us with that plan in mind the whole time?

  Pulling a clean coat over my freshly bandaged arm, I glanced out the window and frowned. Grey clouds were rolling in to hide the dawn and a few droplets of rain began dotting the window pane to make this day hopelessly dreary. Was Rhian outside, exposed to the elements? Were they hurting her? I felt sick thinking about all the ways they might mistreat her, forced to close my eyes to quell the urge to throw up.

  I spent most of the morning in my room, waiting for Brynmor and Madox to return with Rhian, or news of her whereabouts. Letting out a long breath, I looked out the window for what might have been the millionth time as morning became afternoon, finally seeing Madox and Brynmor riding through the gate. I didn’t need to go ask what they might have discovered, I suspected the answer already by their slumping shoulders and long faces. I rubbed my forehead as tears pricked my eyes again. Tomorrow we will get her back. She will be alright. I tried desperately to believe it as I sat to pull my boots on.

  I knocked gently on Father’s door a minute later, Father’s voice bidding me to enter. “Brynmor and Madox are back.” I told him quietly as I sat down at the table with him, my statement soon punctuated by another knock at his door. Madox entered and I searched his face for any hopeful sign at all, but found only grim defeat.

  Madox shook his head slightly as his gaze moved between Father and I. “We tried to follow the tracks of the hill men, but they scattered in all directions and the terrain was too rocky to follow with the horses. There was one set of horse tracks also, though we lost those in the marshlands to the north. I’m sorry, Lord Llew...Lady Carys...we couldn’t find her.” He said bleakly. “We wanted to report in, and will go out and try to pick up the trail again once we get something to eat.”

  That lump formed in my throat again as Father shook his head, his own hope fading into a dismal sigh. “It was my hope we could find her and simply free her from her captors, but that may not be an option. I believe we will simply have to pay the ransom.” He dragged his hand over his face with a tired grunt before adding. “Rest and eat, then continue your search, but return by nightfall. If you cannot find her by then, we will have Carys take the ransom as they have demanded.”

  I sighed bleakly as he spoke, any remnants of hope that we might find her fading completely as I resigned to doing what they asked. My heart sank at the mention of the ransom, not only fearing going alone, but what would happen to our family after her safe return.

  Any remorse Brynmor might have felt was veiled as he came into Father’s room and I wondered if he even took any responsibility for Rhian’s situation at all? He didn’t watch her like he was supposed to. He was lazy and never thought anything would happen, but it did.

  “Her kidnappers certainly know how to prevent their being followed,” Madox reported tiredly, taking a seat with us at the small table along with Brynmor. “She might as well have vanished into thin air. I don’t even know where to keep looking, but we know where they will be heading, so that is the best place to start, and work our way backwards.”

  Brynmor stretched his legs out and grunted as he studied me.”So...how broke are we going to be after paying that ransom?” Madox snorted and shook his head, muttering something about an insensitive fool, and Father glared at Brynmor.

  I was slow to answer, biting back several unpleasant retorts as I answered him stiffly. “I hope you like Soruk, Bryn. We will be staying here for awhile.” All eyes turned to me as brows lifted, and I dutifully explained in a low voice. “I have counted our coin for our journey...we have enough for her ransom, but very little more. We will be unable to fully resupply, which means we will be stuck here until we receive some of our funds from Taurova.”

  Silence hung over our table like a dark cloud as they all stared at me, Father the first to break the quiet. He looked bewildered as he whispered. “I had calculated we had far more than that remaining for our journey West…” His brow furrowed deeply, and I could see him running mental calculations of what had been spent thus far as he rose to fetch the ledger from his pack.

  Brynmor’s jaw worked as he struggled to find something to say, finally shrugging with an offhand comment. “Too bad the girls here aren’t that pretty or staying would be a lot more appealing. But I’ll find a way to manage.” Really? Cracking jokes right now?

  Father glared darkly at Brynmor and snapped. “This is not the time for levity, Brynmor.” Brynmor managed to look apologetic, mumbling an apology.

  Madox gave a disapproving grunt and narrowed his eyes at Brynmor’s complete lack of finesse and gave me an apologetic look. “Maybe we can see if there is a bit of work around Soruk to trade for goods. I’ll ask around.”

  Father’s head shook before waving a dismissive hand to Madox, his demeanor shifting to that of the grizzled commander that he once was as he took his seat again. “We will trade and sell our belongings in order to resupply as needed, remaining here until our funds arrive from Perinthas. We will continue our journey at that time. I will send a letter and ensure those funds have been sent, or will be sent immediately. If it becomes necessary to trade work for goods and services, we will consider that option, then. I don’t want our guards busy with anything but protecting this family unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”

  I nodded my agreement and rose, suddenly in dire need of solitude. I swallowed hard before I spoke lowly. “If it’s alright with you, Father, I would like to be the one to prepare the coin tomorrow, since it is up to me to deliver it.”

  Father’s brow creased deeply as he shook his head. “You will not be going alone, Carys.” He ordered sternly, adding swiftly. “You will be surrounded by every available sword and damn their wishes!” He growled, rising to pace the room.

  I watched him move back and forth, the creaking of the floorboards filling the silence before I responded quietly. “If they wanted to kill us and rob us, they would have done so when they ambushed us. Why go through the trouble of taking Rhian and demanding a ransom if they were going to harm us anyways? They want the money, not the blood on their hands.”

  Father snorted and paused his pacing, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. “But why you, Carys? Why not me, or Iolyn?” He growled loudly, and I thought he might snap the chair with the sheer force of his grip.

  Madox answered softly as he stared at the table, slowly lifting his eyes to meet mine. “Because you, Lord Llew, are a soldier and desperate to get your daughter back. Iolyn is a skilled swordsman and prone to rash decisions. Lady Carys, on the other hand, is the least threatening member of your family and the least likely to try something foolish.” He cleared his throat a little before glancing up to Father. “No offense intended, sir.”

  Father stared hard at Madox, eyes narrowing into slits. He huffed irritably but couldn’t argue, muttering. “Or they will take her and send her to the slave
trade.” His eyes shut and he shook his head.

  “Again...if that was their intention, why go through all the trouble of the ransom? Why not just take me when they ambushed us?” I glanced to Madox before stating. “If I show up with everyone, we risk things escalating and growing violent. We risk Rhian’s life, and we would never forgive ourselves. They said nothing about traveling alone, so send every sword, but I will go into the Bone Farm alone.” I sounded more courageous than I felt, though my bravery slowly grew with my belief that our compliance would save my sister. “Have faith, Father.” I added quietly.

  He was silent, studying me as though trying to weigh every option. At last he grunted. “We all go, and the guards, Iolyn, and I will be stationed around you strategically so that should they try anything, we can step in.” It was as close to compliance as he would get. “But let us hope that Brynmor and Madox can find her today so we can avoid that exchange all together.”