Seeking Sorrow (Guardians of Terath Book 1)

by Zen DiPietro

  Kassimeigh opened her mouth but Izzy cut her off with a gesture and said, “I’m not asking for any explanations or details. Whatever’s going on is your business. I’m just saying, if you can handle that, you can handle wearing an outfit for a couple hours.”

  Kassimeigh had a hard time refusing a challenge. If Izzy was going to call her out, then she’d have to answer the call. She shifted to a wide-legged, square-shouldered battle stance.

  “Fine. I’ll wear the dress.” She strode to the bathroom, leaving little water droplets in her wake.

  “But I’ll be wearing knives underneath!” she warned before closing the door behind her.

  “I have to admit, I feel like a new man,” Luc remarked. He allowed himself to relax back into his chair as he took in their somewhat familiar-seeming surroundings. The tavern room was rustic but tidy, which gave it a rather cozy atmosphere. Strong smells of food and drink made his stomach demand some attention. Relaxed, he allowed himself to enjoy being clean, motionless, and surrounded by small pleasures.

  He, Will, and Arc had already seated themselves at a table near the fire. When Izzy Gin joined them, they all ordered tall glasses of some noxious libation. The beverage lacked pretty much everything that might make it agreeable but it sure was available, which was a worthy distinction in Sub-Apex.

  “As much as I enjoy roughing it, I’ll admit that the time for a few luxuries, like fresh clothing, had arrived.” Arc lifted his glass and saluted his companions before taking a long drink. Luc agreed, so he returned the salute and took a big drink of his own.

  “Fresh clothing and a bath are not luxury,” Izzy Gin scoffed. “They are the minimum of civility and the least you three could offer to a pair of ladies in your company.”

  Will opened his mouth, looking like he was about to argue with the reader. His gaze shifted suddenly to some point on the other side of the room, and he snapped his mouth shut.

  Arc and Luc followed Will’s gaze and also fell silent. Izzy Gin sat tall, beaming with expectation.

  Kassimeigh approached the table with a long, confident stride. As she reached for the unoccupied chair next to Izzy Gin, a man at the next table leaped to his feet and pulled it out for her. He tucked it in behind her and wished her a lovely meal.

  “Amazing manners in this town.” Luc put all due sarcasm into his words. “Who knew a tiny town hidden in the backside of barren offered such genteel attentions?”

  A round of smirks acknowledged Luc, but all eyes remained on Kassimeigh, who seemed unaffected by the scrutiny. Although it had long sleeves and skimmed just past the knee, the dress showed off a lean, athletic figure with a small waist and long legs. She looked strikingly strong, yet there was nothing unfeminine about her. She’d pulled her hair back with a clip, which somehow made her eyes look larger.

  Strength and softness harmonized in an intriguingly unique way. Luc liked it. The justice seemed like less of an ideal and more of a human, all of a sudden. He found it interesting to realize how conditioned he’d been to recognize a shiv’s clothing before recognizing the person beneath it. Fascinating, really.

  “You look very well tonight, Kassimeigh.” Will’s smile was polite, but warm.

  Her coolly serene expression warmed with a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “Indeed,” Arc agreed. “You do.”

  She gave him a quick nod, then addressed the entire table. “So, how does the menu look?”

  Luc recognized her effort to shift their attention away from her appearance. He shared his thoughts on the menu offerings, and the others followed suit. Arc, Izzy Gin, and Will engaged in a debate that pitted casseroles against pastas in a battle for food superiority. Luc preferred a good casserole like his mother used to make, but he kept his opinion to himself.

  He enjoyed a respectably tasty meal and tossed back some Collington brew. The stuff wasn’t the worst he’d ever had, but it was close.

  The tavern filled gradually until the buzz of voices became a roar. Apparently a mining shift had ended, because all of the chairs and stools had suddenly filled, and miners who could not find a seat simply found a place to stand. Luc’s group of five weathered the ruckus as long as they could, but eventually the din grew so loud they couldn’t hear one another. Luc leaned forward to shout over the noise.

  “If you all want to join me in my room, I happen to have something we can drink that will taste a damn sight better than this.” He indicated their glasses.

  Up in Luc’s room, they all managed to find a place to sit. The room fell a bit short on space, but Kassimeigh’s nerve endings sang with the relief of escaping the noise and commotion downstairs.

  Izzy sprawled across the bottom of the bed. She looked as relieved to get away from the din as Kassimeigh felt.

  Luc had smuggled cups out of the tavern. He pulled the room’s single chair up to the small desk by the window and used the desk as a bar. He filled one cup, passed it along, and repeated the process three more times before keeping the final cup for himself. He took a long draught and sighed in satisfaction.

  Kassimeigh’s first taste surprised her. The brew tasted like a lovely wine but caused happy firecrackers to light up in her head. She leaned back against the headboard of Luc’s bed, staring into her cup and understanding why Luc liked the beverage so much.

  Izzy curled up next to the footboard, looking a little dreamy.

  “I don’t usually share this particular brew, but I think we’ve all earned a bit of rest and relaxation. We don’t have much time or opportunity, so this will have to do.” Luc tipped his cup toward them with a jaunty flourish.

  “Works for me,” Will said into his cup as he tipped it up for another gulp. He sat on the floor, leaning back against the foot of the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him.

  Kassimeigh noticed Izzy’s appreciation of those legs. The reader’s eyes drifted down over the long limbs, then slowly back up again. When Izzy finally tore her gaze away to glance at Kassimeigh, she pretended she hadn’t noticed Izzy’s perusal.

  Her own gaze returned to Arc more often than she intended. Like Will, he sat leaning against the bed, just inches to her right. He made broad, sweeping gestures when he talked, and she found herself fascinated by his arms and hands. She liked how his brown hair curled down over his collar, too, and his goatee gave him a rakish look. I could watch him talk for hours, she found herself thinking. She caught up to her own thoughts and frowned at the cup she held. She needed to think less and listen more.

  “How is it you know my aunt, Luc?” Arc asked. “I’ve been wondering about it since the day we met.”

  The manahi pursed his lips thoughtfully. “For any specifics, you’ll have to ask her. Ina and I go way back, and that’s all I’m going to say. Though I believe we’ll be going way forward, too.” He tapped the rim of his cup before taking a sip. “And possibly sideways.”

  The room fell silent as they all digested this cryptic and potentially disturbing information.

  “Izzy Gin,” Will burst out, breaking the silence. “Why do we call you Izzy Gin? No one goes around calling me Will Azrith. Why don’t we just call you Izzy, like Kassimeigh does?”

  Izzy sat up and leaned toward Will. “That’s a great question. Why don’t you?”

  Will blinked at the turnabout. “Well, it was how you introduced yourself, and everyone else seemed to use both names, so I did, too. I started to wonder about it when I heard Kassimeigh call you ‘Izzy’.” But you never invited me to call you that and I didn’t want to just try it out because you like to make fun of me.”

  “So you kept at it because you feared I’d tease you if you changed?”

  “Yup.”

  She laughed. “Here’s the secret. I’m not sure why, but casual acquaintances almost always call me Izzy Gin. When I’ve asked people why, they can’t r
eally explain it either. I’ve decided to consider it amusing, so I just let it be. You can call me Izzy if you want to. It’s short for Ysabel. With a Y.”

  She squinted at him and tilted her head to the side. “You know, teasing and ridicule are different things. I only tease people who are worth it. And the ones who are worth it usually turn out to be my favorite people.”

  After a moment of consideration, Will broke into a broad smile, like none of them had ever seen from him. His pleasure shone out of him like the mid-lats sun at midday. Kassimeigh stared for a moment, before she caught herself.

  “Can I call you Ysabel?” Will asked.

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  The room fell quiet for a few long moments. Kassimeigh’s attention returned to Arc, and she decided that it was her turn to ask a question. “Why did you come on this assignment?”

  The abrupt question didn’t faze him. It seemed little ever did. “My Aunt Ina is very special to me. I love my parents, but Ina and I have always been especially close. She said she needed my help. That’s all it took.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “Why are you here?”

  She’d started this line of questioning. It was only fair for her to answer. “When I heard about a town of dust, I asked for the assignment. The elders agreed.”

  “Why did you want it?” Arc seemed surprised she’d been so forthcoming with her answer.

  Kassimeigh ran her fingers down the soft fabric of her dress. She hadn’t told anyone about this since joining the shiv order, not even Izzy. Should she really talk about this? She looked at her four companions, one by one. What was it Izzy had said earlier? Something about accepting challenges and not relying on a crutch? Well, crutch this.

  “Because I was from Umi Cabal. My mother was the mayor.”

  She ignored the stunned expressions. She waved a hand to ward off any expressions of sympathy. She didn’t need them. She’d made peace with her past when she joined the order.

  “We were eight cabals, each specializing in different disciplines. Umi had the artists. Painters, jewelry makers, graphic designers, all that. My last day there, I left to visit Abra Cabal, the horticulturists, on an errand for my mother. I stayed overnight with friends. It was the first time I’d been allowed to do that, and I felt very grown-up and important. I loved helping my mother with her official duties. But when I got back home, it wasn’t home anymore. It was all just black dust. You’d expect the sky to be full of dark clouds or lightning, but it was a day like any other.”

  Kassimeigh didn’t want to look up and see the looks of sympathy she knew the others wore. Receiving sympathy she didn’t need felt fraudulent. This was news to them, but not to her. Maybe she should be the one giving them sympathy.

  She continued, “So my cabal was gone, and that life was over. I could have gone back to Abra, or any of the other cabals. Good people would have taken me in, but I hated the idea of being someone’s foundling. Instead, I got myself to the Northern Keep and threw myself at the elders’ feet. They agreed to take me on, and I’ve been a shiv ever since. I found a new home and a new family. So please, don’t pity me. That’s the last thing I want.”

  “How old were you?” Luc asked.

  “Twelve.”

  To their credit, they kept their sympathy silent. She didn’t welcome it, but it didn’t chafe her, either, since they didn’t burden her with the obligation of accepting their condolences. She’d never told anyone but her shiv elders and her mentor, Eryl, about her origins. She wasn’t sure why she’d done so now. Maybe it was Izzy’s counsel earlier. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was because she could blame it on the drink.

  She was surprised then Arc reached up and rested his hand on the back of hers. It was a natural gesture from him, but she was surprised that she didn’t resent it. The resulting tingle made them pull apart. Arc sent her a significant look she chose to ignore.

  “So, Luc.” Arc’s tone was light and conversational in a way that instantly put Kassimeigh on alert. “What do you know about soulbonds?”

  Luc arched an eyebrow. “What? Why? Hell, why not? It’s an odd night. Let’s see. Soulbonds.” He took a sip from his cup, then gazed up at the ceiling. “I’ve known a couple of pairs with soulbonds. One was an old couple when I was a boy. The other a middle-aged pair I chanced to meet while traveling. You don’t really know a couple’s bonded unless they confirm it. If you know them well you might suspect. There’s a synchronicity between them, a knowing. But some couples are very in tune without a soulbond. Why are you asking?”

  Arc made an “it’s nothing” gesture. He glanced at Kassimeigh, perhaps anticipating a scolding look, but she kept her shiv face on. Reacting to him would only draw attention.

  “It came up recently in conversation, and I was curious. Is there a benefit to a soulbond? Or a detriment?”

  “I’m no expert, but a faithful couple might find the bond quite comforting and reaffirming. From what I understand, bondmates have a strong sense of each other, particularly in proximity. Detriments . . . well, imagine living without one of your senses. Death of one’s bondmate must be intensely devastating.”

  “Have you ever heard of a bonded pair that wasn’t a romantic couple? Or that even disliked one another?”

  Luc lifted his shoulders. “No, but anything’s possible. Just because some link is spontaneously forged doesn’t mean the subjects have to agree to it. I think most of the time it’s an amicable match. And I don’t see why a bond would necessitate a romantic relationship.”

  “What if bondmates never meet?” Will piped up. “If they never happen to cross paths, do they notice something missing?”

  Luc shook his head. “A soulbond doesn’t form until two people meet. They have to not only have the applicable gene switched on—which most people don’t—they need to share a precise sequence of genetic code. If everything matches up and the two people happen to meet, their bond essentially becomes an airborne virus that infects them both. Ta da. Bonded.”

  The explanation lacked some detail, but Kassimeigh didn’t really care at the moment. She wasn’t the one interested in the subject.

  Will grimaced. “So a person could be happy and married, then meet some random stranger and become bonded? That’s awful.”

  Izzy agreed. “I imagine they’d all need some serious counseling.”

  “I bet you’ve heard a lot of really unusual stories,” Will observed.

  “You’ve no idea.”

  “Tell us one?

  “Nope. Confidentiality and all.”

  “What about—”

  “Nope, not that either.” She gave him a teasing smile and he shook his head ruefully.

  “But if I were going to tell you something,” Izzy leaned down over the edge of the bed as if to share some serious dirt, “it would be even more juicy and complicated than the soulbond-triangle thing.”

  Will laughed.

  “You’re an interesting puzzle, Will Azrith.” She waved her cup toward him.

  “I am? Why?”

  Kassimeigh began to find the rapid changes of subject hard to follow. She rubbed her temple.

  “So polite, but devoted to blood sport,” Izzy continued. “So young, but terribly serious. So easy to nettle, but quick to forgive.”

  He quirked his shoulders. “I’ve never tried to be anything I’m not. Whatever I am is just what happens.”

  “I might someday start to like you. A little. But don’t get a fat head about it.”

  “I won’t. But I’m not going to say you aren’t annoying. ’Cause you are. In a nice way.”

  “There you have it.” Izzy gestured expansively, as though they’d just settled a major question of the ages.

  Kassimeigh had become too sleepy to carry on. She set her cup on a narro
w nightstand and stood. “Luc, thank you for sharing your space and your drink with us, but I should get to my room before I fall asleep. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it. And I’m glad you told us about yourself.” He crossed the room and placed a light kiss on her cheek. Fondness for the manahi welled up in her. She enjoyed the rare sensation.

  As for Arc, she didn’t spare him a glance as she glided out the door with the green dress swishing around her legs. Since he’d teased her by asking questions about soulbonds, she’d let him squirm a bit.

  Kassimeigh felt unusually energetic and her mood bordered on ebullient. She and Will had enjoyed an early-morning run together, which both found invigorating. They’d agreed that cold weather was actually rather pleasant for running.

  By the time she freshened up, it was time to meet her friends in the tavern for breakfast. She was the last to arrive and they’d already begun to order, so she made a hasty selection.

  They made small talk while they waited, and a surprisingly large amount of food arrived in short order. Apparently, they were all quite hungry.

  “Mm, I love muffins!” Izzy took a huge bite of a fruit-filled one with the delight of a child.

  Arc grinned at the reader, and Kassimeigh shared his amusement. Though the reader approached everything with vitality, her enthusiasm was particularly high this morning.

  “I feel fantastic.” Will tucked into a stack of pancakes so tall it probably hurt the server a little to carry it to the table.

  Kassimeigh sent Luc a suspicious look. “I think we all do. Why is that?”