Seeking Sorrow (Guardians of Terath Book 1)

by Zen DiPietro

  Kassimeigh remained silent and remote. The shiv had donned a black shoka, but had left off the hood and gloves. Arc had greatly enjoyed seeing Kassimeigh’s performance in the adjudication. Her less severe shoka had made her seem more approachable—and when she’d spoken to the little girl her cool serenity had blossomed into warmth and endearing charm. Arc had felt just as beguiled as the child had been. He found himself at a loss, trying to sort out her varied dimensions.

  The two of them hadn’t been alone since Kassimeigh’s visit to her keep, and he’d been so busy with organizing the battalion that they’d only spoken in passing. He wanted to discuss the issue of a soulbond with her, but she’d made her position on the matter clear. He doubted that the timing was appropriate anyway, given all they faced.

  Although he itched to know more about soulbonding, he didn’t want to push the boundaries she’d set. He’d settled for researching soulbonds on the comm when he’d found a spare moment or two, but had been surprised to find that there was little more than anecdotal suppositions. Izzy might know something, but he couldn’t talk to her about it unless he was sure Kassimeigh would have no objections.

  The horizon continued to unroll, continuing to reveal a determinedly consistent absence of feature. There was only more cold, hard ground, and the distant horizon.

  “I’m afraid we’ll be driving all day,” Arc said, raising his voice for Izzy in the back seat. “Will chose a remote area to minimize the chance that someone will notice what we’re doing. I don’t know how stealthy a group of three hundred or so can be, but we’ll do our best and hope we can keep ahead of any buzz we might create. You don’t suppose people would believe we’re just a really big camping party, do you?”

  His attempt to draw the two women into conversation failed. They both continued to brood on whatever occupied their individual thoughts. It was really quite boring. He took the hint, though, and entertained himself by composing jokes about the epically boring nature of Apex to interject into the conversation that wasn’t happening. In his head, both women found him wildly amusing.

  In late afternoon, they reached the rendezvous point, and all three suffered the stiffness and soreness of rough travel. Others had arrived before them, and they took a moment to wonder at the oddity that awaited them.

  The sight that spread across the flat expanse of Sub-Apex jarred Izzy and Kassimeigh out of their preoccupations. Standing stark against the otherwise barren landscape, a throng of people bustled with industrious fervor to assemble a camp like none that Arc had ever seen. Supplies littered the cold, dusty ground. As he watched, tents began to decorate the landscape, creating a society in an inhospitable land that few Terathians ever saw firsthand.

  A double row of more carts than Arc had ever seen in one place sat to one side of the encampment. Every monorail station in the mid-lats kept a light cart or two on hand for those who needed to borrow one. Large cities might have four or more. Now, he saw perhaps fifty heavy carts looming alongside the campsite.

  Will and Luc pulled up alongside their cart. The five of them shared a moment of mutual wonder before angling their carts toward a gap in the nearest line and disembarking.

  Izzy meandered through the burgeoning camp. Laughs, shouts, and the sounds of tent poles deploying filled her ears. She watched with wonder the fascinating novelty of an embryonic military force coalescing and forming a new entity unto Terath. She marveled at the pulsating vitality of this group of hearty, eager individuals.

  She hadn’t yet assembled her tent, but she was working nonetheless. Will had asked her to work through the camp to weed out anyone experiencing hostility, belligerence, disregard for authority, or other undesirable traits. Though the multitude had been carefully selected based on reputation and reference, there was always the possibility that a poor fit for the job might have slipped into the ranks. Izzy’s task of surveillance had the side benefits of stretching her legs and checking out all the strong, able-bodied men and women.

  Thus far, she hadn’t found anyone who caught her professional attention. She sensed anticipation, excitement, and nervous energy, all within a reasonable degree under the circumstances. She observed Will circulating among his troops, greeting those he knew and meeting those he didn’t.

  In the distance, she saw that Arc and the other archers had put bow to shoulder and engaged in what they did best.

  Kassimeigh glided quietly but conspicuously through the camp. Her very presence promoted a sense of distinguished legitimacy. Izzy felt heartened by the unifying composure the justice inspired.

  Nearing the edge of the camp, Izzy lingered. The manahi had gathered there, and appeared to be deep in conversation. She’d never had the chance to observe a group of mana-holders before. As she watched them, she became intrigued by the idea that socialization must differ among a group of people who possessed significant mana-holding abilities. Surely the possession of such skills molded a person’s impressions. Manahi shared an exclusive understanding with one another, which must create their own particular sub-culture. Izzy made a mental note to begin a study on the subject. When she wasn’t occupied with armies and serial killers. For now, she was satisfied all of the manahi seemed to be mentally stable and focused. Although, the big, dark-haired one reeked of sexual frustration.

  She decided she should move on before someone noticed her scrutiny. She turned a corner and a tall, broad-shouldered man nearly bumped into her.

  “Pardon.” His gaze barely registered her, and he kept moving toward his destination until his head snapped back toward her and he eased to a stop. He swiveled toward her. “Didn’t see you there.” A slow smile curled across his lips like a wisp of smoke.

  Izzy sensed the spark of interest in him, and didn’t mind a bit. He possessed all the lovely characteristics of long, dark-blonde hair, sun-bronzed skin, and hulking muscularity. She’d always liked the outdoorsy, physical type of guy. Many of that sort had joined the battalion, so they weren’t hard to find, but this one piqued her interest. She sensed good humor and strength in him. She tilted her head slightly, causing her hair to fan out across her jawline.

  She allowed herself a coy smile. “But now you do.”

  “Damn shame if I didn’t. I’d be missing out on the best part of this camp.”

  She liked the good-humored confidence she sensed in him. The combination of his appearance and his attitude appealed to her. His comments were cocky, but his composure suggested a man who was simply comfortable with himself.

  “Hmm. You can keep that in mind this evening at dinner. Unless someone else has found me first.” She doubted he’d let that happen.

  “If they have, I’ll make sure to get rid of them fast.”

  Izzy gave him a nonchalant shrug and continued on her way without a backward look. She had a lot more people to assess.

  “Kassimeigh.” Will had seen her strolling through the camp and broke away to flag her down. She changed direction to meet him.

  “If it’s not an imposition, I wonder if you would consider wearing full shoka here. I think it would give the troops an additional sense of legitimacy and willingness to conform.”

  She studied the general. Since entering the camp, he’d matured. Even as she watched, he transformed into his true self, rather than the rough approximation he’d been before. He wore authority like a perfectly molded cloak and it lent him a self-awareness that was almost magnetic.

  “I’m afraid I can’t, Will. When the elders approved my participation in this action, they required me to forgo full shoka. I think they want to test me by pushing me away from my natural tendency. The most I can do is the black shoka I have, with the gloves added. The hood isn’t an option. I hope that doesn’t cause a problem for you.”

  “I see.” Will’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sure the elders have their reason. No matter, I can already see the troops responding t
o your authority. What do you think of them?”

  “Perhaps they’ll do.”

  He frowned, then grinned when he understood that she was joking, in her understated way. “Now you sound like Izzy, always teasing me.”

  “I’m beginning to see why she likes it.”

  An easy laugh escaped him, and he shook his head good-naturedly. “Maybe you see better without that hood.”

  “You might be right. Life is a continual learning experience.”

  “I know I’ve learned a lot in the past weeks,” he agreed. “Speaking of which, I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to be my second in this outfit. My first lieutenant, I suppose you’d be. If something happened to me, you’d take command.”

  “Are you sure I’m the best choice? You have a lot of heroes here, and I’m trained in the arts of non-aggression, not war.” Though she had no objection to the assignment, she hadn’t expected Will’s request.

  “You’re my only choice. I imagine that opting for non-aggression when possible is the best way to keep one’s outfit alive. When aggression isn’t optional, who better than a shiv to inspire allegiance and ass-kicking?”

  “Will Azrith. You just said ‘ass’ to a justice.”

  He stepped closer and said in a confidential tone, “Guess what. A justice just said ‘ass’ to me.”

  She favored him with a grin. “Very well, then. If you want me to be your second, I’m your second. You have Ina Trewe’s faith, and you have mine, too.”

  “I’m honored, Justice. I’ll do my best to live up to expectations.”

  She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about others’ expectations. Focus instead on what must be done. That’s how you’ll excel.”

  “Thank you, Justice. Kassimeigh.”

  “Just don’t be an ass about it. Now, I’m going to check on how supplies are being organized. I’ll check back with you after dinner.”

  Dinner around multiple campfires proved remarkably enjoyable. An easy camaraderie settled through the camp as people organized themselves into groups and found a place to belong. Old friends got reacquainted and new friends found things in common. Kassimeigh and Arc sat with a group of archers. At Will’s behest, Arc had organized the archers and taken stock of supplies.

  Kassimeigh enjoyed watching Arc. He listened to others’ anecdotes, offered archery tactics, laughed easily, and generally put people at ease. She admired his easy graces and his gift for making others feel appreciated.

  “So we waited up there in the tree fort,” he explained, making broad gestures with his hands. “Shaking with laughter even though we didn’t make a sound. We had to be very quiet, you see. When our prey walked under our tree, we sprang into action. Abrom and Bran dumped the juva nectar, and a few seconds later I threw down bushels of stinkweed.”

  Guffaws rippled around the fire. “They looked up and saw us,” added Bran Oswell, a somewhat plain-looking archer who flashed an infectious smile. “But it didn’t matter. They only cared about running to the creek to wash off the mess.”

  “Not that it helped much,” laughed Abrom Jacobs, a cherubic prankster. “They stank for a week and had to stay out of school because no one could stand them.”

  “A fitting punishment,” Kassimeigh decreed. “You were clever fellows, and gallant to stand up for the little girl whose project they ruined.”

  “Don’t give us too much credit,” Arc warned. “We were glad enough to have a reason to pay those jerks back. They tormented all the other kids. After the stinkweed incident, though, they didn’t cause too many problems.”

  The firelight cast shadows across his high cheekbones. She’d noted his physical appeal when she’d first met him, but the longer she knew him, the more attractive he became to her. The tingle she always felt in proximity to him was a warm buzz that started in her hands and feet then radiated inward to her core. She didn’t think she’d ever had the opportunity to simply relax and watch him. It was an experience worth having.

  Arc noticed her attention as he chatted with Abrom. He shifted slightly more toward her and offered her a warm smile that gradually transformed into a broad grin.

  With a not-unpleasant tightness in her chest, she relaxed her reserve and met his gaze. She allowed her face to transmit whatever it wanted to.

  The warmth of his smile transferred to his eyes, which added to his intensity. Kassimeigh ignored the impulse to get up and leave the fire. Instead, she leaned back against a crate and let her attention drift up toward the darkening sky while she listened to another tale of childhood hijinks.

  She let her thoughts roam free while listening to the stories with only half an ear. A voice brought her back into the fray, calling, “I bet you never got into trouble as a kid, did you, Justice?” Abrom’s question caused the group around the fire to fall into silence.

  “For the most part, I was a good kid,” she admitted. “But no one’s perfect.”

  “Well, you can’t tease us. Tell us the story.” Arc’s kind eyes dissolved any inhibitions she might have had about revealing something personal.

  “When I was very young, I had a friend whose older brother was always picking on her. He’d jump out and scare her, break her toys, eat all the treats. We had a sleepover at her house one night and he kept tripping her. Once she fell down and skinned her knee pretty badly.”

  “What a jerk.” Abrom scowled. “So what did you do?”

  “He was four years older, so there was little we could do physically. I resorted to stealth tactics. The next day, I told the girl he liked about his behavior and she told him in front of their whole class that she’d never like a boy who was so mean to a little girl.”

  “Ouch. Nice.” Abrom chuckled in appreciation.

  “And . . . the night of the sleepover when I brushed my teeth, I noticed his toothbrush in its holder. The next morning when her brother brushed his teeth, my friend and I laughed and laughed and he had no idea why.”

  “Oh no, why?” Abrom asked with glee.

  “I’d given his toothbrush a thorough dunking in the toilet, then replaced it just as it had been.” She smiled in memory. “My friend felt much better about her knee afterward.”

  Laughter rang around the fire. “It’s pretty decent recompense. You got an early start in adjudication,” Abrom declared.

  As she chuckled, she met Arc’s laughing eyes. She felt a charge of energy in her chest. A sense of understanding spun out between them. She felt like they could have entire conversations using only smiles. The tiniest change in expression conveyed something that took so many words to explain. She felt a pulling sensation between them. It ignited her chest in an electric frenzy that made breathing a conscious effort.

  Instead of dragging her gaze away, she remained in the fray, daring him to look away first.

  Across the camp, Will and Izzy ended up at the same fire, although they sat on different sides of it. The sun-bronzed fantasy Izzy had bumped into earlier proved to be head of a guild of blades from the opposite side of the mid-lats. His name was Carston Everly, and though he’d invited her to call him Car, she was insistently neglectful of using the shortened version of his name.

  “I disagree. I don’t mind camp food,” Izzy told him. “In fact, I’ve found that some people are quite talented at creating lovely meals with only a campfire and modest ingredients. I didn’t realize it until recently, but smoke can be used to create unique flavors you don’t get in other types of cookery.” Clearly, Carston had never traveled with an outdoorsman of Arc’s caliber.

  “I didn’t say camp food is bad,” Carston protested. “I mean, you don’t even have to cook in the mid-lats if you don’t want to. You can just go outdoors, pluck some leaves, berries, or whatever, and end up with an entirely nutritious meal. I just meant there are more options with food when all the convenience
s of a kitchen are available.”

  “Your main focus in life is convenience, then?”

  “Not at all! In fact, I think a lot of life is too convenient already. I’d rather walk than ride the monorail from one short stop to the next. There are a lot of things worth making great effort for.” He sent her a suggestive look.

  “I’ll agree that great effort can have great reward.” She kept her tone prim, not acknowledging his implication.

  She picked up her bowl of soup and pointedly savored a spoonful of hearty goodness. She sensed his amusement even as a broad grin slid across his face. Likewise, she sensed his increased interest in her. The man loved to be challenged.

  On the other side of the fire, Will discussed possible tactics with similarly large, muscular men. Izzy took little notice of him, but Will noticed that the distance between Izzy and Carston shrank gradually. While it was none of his business personally, he did feel somewhat responsible for Izzy’s wellbeing. She was a member of his outfit. He needed to make some inquiries about the guy. He seemed friendly enough, but Will had known plenty of men who gave far better first impressions than reality warranted.

  Will refocused his attention on his own conversation, but Izzy distracted him. She threw her head back and laughed at something Car had said. Will’s lips twitched. There was something infectious about Izzy’s vitality, even at this distance.

  It was unusual to have seven remarkable manahi in one place, yet here they all sat. Luc had hand-picked them for their talents, even-mindedness, and ability to work with others. Not all manahi were inclined to work in a group. In fact, frequently, the more talented a mana-holder was, the more he or she preferred to work alone.

  Nonetheless, the manahi enjoyed the togetherness as much as any other group at the camp. Luc allowed himself a hum of satisfaction.