by B. T. Narro
I turned around and started jogging.
There was only one thought that repeated itself as I followed the path back to our camp: Please still be asleep. I didn’t know what I would say if she wasn’t.
“I left. But I changed my mind, and now I’m back.”
I imagined her asking me why I left. I didn’t know what to say. I cringed as another inevitable question came to mind. She’d want to know if I planned on leaving later. She might not ask it aloud, but I was sure I’d see it on her face. She had those dark eyes that seemed to reach my heart like the prick of a needle no matter what emotion they conveyed.
I heard crying as I got close. My heart sank. I hid behind the trees as I figured out what to do. I snuck a look. She was curled into a ball of misery, reminding me of an inconsolable child in that moment, the way she sobbed as if the world were about to end. This was the worst thing I could’ve done to her.
She sat up suddenly, wheezing. She was panicked. So was I.
I was just about to come out from behind the trees when she started talking to herself. “I’m going to be fine. Going to be fine. I’m always fine. Going to be…” A wheeze interrupted her. She stopped to catch her breath, then went on. “Going…wheeze…to be fine. Going to…wheeze…be fine. Going to be…wheeze…fine.”
Her breathing calmed with each repetition of the phrase. Soon her sobbing quieted. I listened as she lay back down, a soft moan escaping between breaths as she continued to cry.
It was between night and morning. I wouldn’t see the sun in the sky for a few hours, but I could see her clearly enough to tell she was shivering. She pulled her blanket over her head, and I heard nothing after that.
I waited a long time, hidden, until I was sure she must’ve fallen back asleep. I didn’t want her to know I’d seen her cry and panic about me leaving. It would just embarrass her. So I sneaked over, spread out my blanket, and slowly…quietly…ever so slowly, eased myself down. I set my bags on the dirt and turned on my side away from the silent and dark blob that was Shara.
I pulled the blanket over my head just like she had. It kept out the cold and the small bit of light nicely.
I didn’t even realize I’d fallen back asleep until I awoke to the sound of Shara’s gasp. Expecting robbers or an animal, I pulled the blanket off my face and shot up. Shara recoiled and looked straight at me. I glanced over my shoulder to find nothing there, realizing it was me who’d frightened her.
She stopped cowering the moment she saw my face. “Oh!” Confusion took over as her fright dissolved. “Was that a dream?” She looked down, clearly speaking to herself. She shook her head and looked back at me. “No it wasn’t. You were gone.”
Damn, I wasn’t prepared for this. I’d fallen asleep before figuring out what I would say.
“Where did you go?” she asked, then some fright came back into her eyes. “When did you…was I asleep when you came back…or…?”
“You were asleep,” I lied.
She seemed relieved as she let out a breath.
I continued lying, “I heard someone out there.” I pointed north. “I went to check.”
She squinted, clearly not believing me. I didn’t blame her. Why would I take all my belongings and put food in her bag if I was just checking on a strange noise? But she didn’t call me on my lie.
As we ate in silence, it became clear neither of us wanted to talk about it. I should’ve listened to my gut and never left.
We descended the hill and walked for miles, hardly speaking. When we separated briefly to relieve ourselves, I finally counted my money. I had two dalions and sixty-two ruffs, more than I’d thought. I reminded myself that I had fourteen days left to reach Glaine. It was important not to lose track of the days.
Soon we came back onto the path to Cessri. It ran northeast between hills and secluded stands of trees, some of which looked to be on the brink of death, gray and bare of leaves.
Shara seemed like a different person. When she wasn’t humming a somber tune, she looked sad and disinterested, as if neither I nor our trip mattered anymore. I figured if I left again, she wouldn’t cry this time.
But everything about her changed when she saw a child begging travelers for food. Her eyes widened at the sight of him—a grimy little boy whose rags made our clothes look like that of nobility. He wore a frayed coat twice his size, probably someone’s discard. Its ends dragged across the dirt as the boy shuffled warily to a family of three, lowered his head, and mumbled something.
Shara clasped her hands tightly together. “The poor child.” Her sympathetic tone made me nervous. There was so much pity in her voice I wondered not whether she would give him some of our food, but how much.
It made me want to take control. “He can have half of the bread we have left, and we’ll still be fine.” I reached into our food bag.
I couldn’t tell whether Shara heard me or not. She walked straight toward the boy and knelt in front of him to match his eye level. “What’s your name?”
“Tyree.” Something about Shara seemed to surprise him, for his mouth fell open. “M’gods, you’re the prettiest lady I’ve seen all week.”
All right…immediately I did not trust this kid…this Tyree, with his absurdly cute name. Charm oozed from his strangely white smile, a full set of teeth. Even worse, his compliment to Shara actually sounded sincere, although I doubted it was.
She practically melted, letting out a gasp, then a long, “Awwww.”
She wasn’t unattractive, but she certainly couldn’t have been the prettiest lady this boy had seen. A black mixture of dirt and soot covered most of her face, and her hair was tangled and matted. I wasn’t any better, but the boy wasn’t telling me I was the most handsome man he’d seen.
“It’s awfully kind of you to ask my name,” Tyree whispered. “No one else cares.” He glanced at the other passing travelers in a coy manner that seemed far too practiced.
Shara made an unintelligible sound that showed the boy’s cuteness had clearly clouded her judgment.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Nine, sir. Are you fortunate enough to be this woman’s beau?”
Shara giggled. “You are so adorable.” She couldn’t seem to get enough of this child. “No, we’re just traveling companions. This is Neeko, and I’m Shara. Are you hungry?” She motioned for me to hand her our food bag.
I didn’t dare.
“M’gods, I couldn’t possibly ask such nice people for food.”
Shara scowled at me when I wouldn’t hand her the bag. “Neeko.” She grabbed it and pulled. I didn’t let go. “Neeko!” She pulled harder
I stopped resisting, letting it out of my hand with a grunt of disapproval. She stumbled two steps from her momentum, then clumsily regained her balance. She pushed aside a dark clump of knotted hair that had fallen over her face and smiled at the boy.
“Please, let us help you.” Shara handed him some of our dried meat, my favorite food in the bag. “This should give you the energy you need to get where you’re going.” Her brow creased. “Where are you going?”
The boy gladly took the food. But instead of shoveling it into his mouth like a starving boy would, he pushed it into one of his coat pockets.
“Cessri, Shara. I’m going to Cessri. The last of my family is there. The fires last night—” He shook his head and looked as if he was trying to cry.
Shara knelt down again. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She threw her arms around him, and he laid his head on her shoulder. She pulled back and grasped his hands, showing him a serious look. “I have some good news for you. We’re heading to Cessri as well. You can go with us. How does that sound?”
No! I thought. How do I stop this? I knew a liar when I met one. This Tyree, if that was even his name, wasn’t trustworthy. “Shara.” I tried to get her attention, but she wouldn’t look away from the boy’s face.
He stared blankly back at her. “Go with you…to Cessri?”
“Shara,” I tried again. Thi
s time she turned her head.
“What?”
But I stopped as I noticed the boy’s eyes shifting as well. They hurried over me, from my face, to the bag on my back, to the dagger on my belt, then over to Shara’s bag and her too-long sword, the point of its sheath resting on the dirt as she remained kneeling. I would’ve thought the child was trying to determine if we were dangerous or not, but there was an utter lack of concern on his face. Instead, he looked as if he’d just stepped into a bakery and, with a full coin purse, was eyeing all the things he wanted to devour.
I met Shara’s gaze. Her expression held a mix of disbelief and disgust. Her mind was set. We would help this boy whether I liked it or not.
I sighed. Shara looked back at Tyree and smiled once again. “Come with us, all right?” She stood and held out her hand to him.
“M’gods, my hands are very dirty. I couldn’t.”
“So are mine. Come on. Let’s go.”
“Thank you, Shara and Neeko. Thank you. I won’t take too much food, I swear it.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Shara said. “We have plenty.”
No we don’t, I refrained from saying because it didn’t matter. This was happening.
The boy walked beside her, both of them in front of me. He still wouldn’t take her hand, and she gave up, patting his back once instead. He seemed annoyed by her touch, his shoulders lifting. She didn’t appear to notice, too busy looking in our food bag and telling him what we had in an attempt to excite him.
“M’gods, that all sounds delicious,” he gushed. “Thank you.”
But when Shara asked what family he had in Cessri, he gave no answer.
“Don’t want to talk about it?” she asked sweetly.
He shook his head, then looked the opposite way.
Probably because he’s been lying. Just then, the boy turned to give me an inquisitive look. I feigned no smile for him, instead showing a hard glare. It was better if he knew I wasn’t as gullible as Shara. Maybe then he wouldn’t try to steal from us.
CHAPTER TEN
I stayed behind Shara and the boy for many miles. He didn’t eat the jerky in his coat pocket. He didn’t ask when we planned to stop for a rest. He never complained. In fact, he only spoke when Shara asked him something.
Soon she got tired of trying to get Tyree to speak about himself, and she started talking about us instead. “Neeko and I just met yesterday. Our houses were burned down during the battle.”
“M’gods, that’s truly awful. Truly!”
“We’re going to be fine, don’t worry. We’re on our way to Glaine to get money for new houses. I’ve always wanted to travel north. I’m happy to finally do it. We’re going to be fine,” she repeated.
I found it odd that she hadn’t traveled north before. This was the opposite of the impression she initially gave me. I started to wonder where she could’ve gone if she hadn’t gone north. Lanhine was at the southern edge of Rhalon. A different king reigned over the territories south of us.
“Shara,” I started.
“Neeko.”
“If you haven’t traveled north, where have you traveled to before?”
“I’ve never left Lanhine.”
I stopped. “Are you joking?”
“No.” She stopped as well and shot me a confused glance.
Anger made my voice rise. “You’ve never been out of Lanhine!”
“I never said I had.” She leaned away from me, appearing nervous.
She should be nervous! “Why did you give me the impression you’re a seasoned traveler?”
“I know Sumar as well as anyone could without walking across it.” She folded her arms, now defensive. “I never lied to you. I may not be a seasoned traveler, but I know the land well, far better than you. Far better than most! Even those who’ve traveled it!”
“How’s that possible?”
“Maps, books.” She pointed to her temple. “I remember everything I read.”
“Maps and books?” I was incredulous. This madwoman. “Maps and books?”
“What do you care?” she retorted. “You thought you could make it to Glaine on your own, so why not believe I can lead us there?”
“Because you convinced me how absurd it was to travel alone!”
“It is absurd! But you don’t have to worry now. I will lead us there.”
“From maps and books? What were the dangers you listed before…?” I was thinking aloud now. “Something about creatures lurking in the forest and waiting beneath the ground?”
“Yes, that and more, but I know how to handle them.”
“From maps and books? Gods, I’ve traveled more than you.” I’d been to Cessri and back. It wasn’t much, and I rode in a carriage each time, but it was something.
Shara had a look as if she was bored. “Does this mean you’re going to leave during the night again?” Her voice was serious, yet soft and horribly callous. “Because you might as well just go on your own now if that’s the case.”
Her words made it feel like a strip of my heart had been ripped off. My anger was gone. I couldn’t keep it up when guilt overcame me. I contemplated reminding her that I’d heard someone in the night. She probably would’ve pretended to believe me a second time to avoid awkwardness, even after confronting me about the truth. But I couldn’t lie again.
“No, I’m not going to leave, but if we find someone we can trust in Cessri who’s been north before, we’ll take him along.” I thought of my friend Eizle. It wasn’t that I expected him to know the land any better than Shara or I did. I just wanted someone I could trust, someone I knew. Eizle would make everything better.
The boy didn’t seem the least bit concerned as he eyed Shara and me. He was a calculating little runt; I could see it. Children couldn’t be trusted—this I learned when I still was one.
“We’re separating from you when we get to Cessri,” I told him.
He pretended to be afraid. “Yes, of course. I understand.”
“No need to be rude,” Shara scolded me.
But there was a need. Politeness was just a mask on this child. I wanted to yank it off and expose his true character.
“Maybe if we eat something, we’ll all feel better,” Shara suggested.
So we ate.
By the end of our quick meal, I did feel somewhat better. Shara had convinced me she was better qualified than most to lead us to Glaine. She could be quite persistent, I’d come to realize.
She didn’t ask again if I would leave during the night, though I could feel her thinking about it in each pause during the meal.
If she was as capable as she claimed, I didn’t see why she couldn’t find a better companion in Cessri. Then I realized how absurd that thought was. Who was she going to find there who wanted to go all the way to Glaine? She had a far better chance of finding someone in Lanhine. She could’ve hung around mean Betsy Baker and waited for someone else to get their redemption scroll, but then could she trust whoever it was?
For that matter, what did I offer to this party? My greatest asset was my ability with pyforial energy, and she didn’t even know about that. To her, I was trustworthy…at least enough.
When we started walking again, I flanked one side of her, the boy on the other. “Shara, I—”
“Neeko.” She let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “You have to stop starting with my name. One of my many fathers used to do that whenever he needed something.” Her voice became grave. “And he always needed something.”
“I’ll try.”
“Now, what were you saying?”
“I want to thank you. I’d be walking to Glaine alone right now if it wasn’t for you.”
She smirked, then started to sing. “When you don’t know, of the dangers that await, you start to go, thinking of no ill fate. But with me here, Neeko, there’s no need to freak-o. I’ll keep us safe—” She paused and furrowed her brow. “I hope our pants don’t chafe. Wait, I can come up with something better.”
Ignoring her, I said, “If you give me that sword, I can do a lot more to keep us safe.”
“And I’ll look after this waif!” Shara finished, putting her hand on the boy’s back and wearing a proud smile. “Rhymes are usually easy; I must be more tired than I thought.”
I wondered if she’d even heard me. “Shara, the sw—”
“Neeko,” she interrupted.
“Sorry. The sword. Can we trade it for my dagger?”
She scowled.
“Just to use, not to keep.”
“Nay.”
I thought of asking her to swing it to demonstrate my point that she couldn’t, but I was too fearful she would try and end up cutting herself.
Miles later, the path to Cessri took us between a lake and a rocky hillside. A few hundred soldiers were gathered around the water, their black uniforms with the sigil of a dalion on their shoulders signifying their allegiance to King Quince. They were allies. Well, maybe not exactly allies. I couldn’t imagine them helping us with anything. They aren’t foes, I corrected myself.
“Let’s fill our water there,” I said. “We can make a fire after we pass through the soldiers.”
“All right,” Shara said. “Keep quiet around the soldiers,” she whispered to the boy.
“I know.”
I wasn’t thirsty, but I drank nearly all of the water I had left knowing I’d replenish it soon.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Shara advised.
“Why not?”
“What if we couldn’t fill our water here?”
“Why couldn’t we?”
“I don’t know. But it’s a good idea to wait until we have the refill ready before drinking our supply dry.”
I couldn’t disagree with her reasoning. “Next time.”
A few soldiers glanced over, but the rest ignored us. Most were men with swords. Each woman I saw appeared to be a mage like Callyn, without a sword, without armor, and smaller in stature than the men. Then I saw her. Callyn—it was certainly her, blonde with a hard expression. When her eyes found mine, the tension left her face.