by Justin Sloan
Rhona blinked and looked at their clothes. “Those’d be some of the most important parts.”
“Aye, but…” Estair held up a hand for them to pause, then set down the pack she was carrying. She began untying it, and soon had a length of tan cloth instead of a pack. “We use this like clothes, carrying our goods in the flannel if necessary, beneath our clothes.”
“So we’ll look like homeless fat people,” Alastar stated.
“Homeless fat people with nice weapons,” Rhona corrected him. “We can’t very well hide the swords under our clothes.”
“Regardless, we’ll look like mindless idiots.”
“It’s that or go naked,” Estair offered. “Or we can wait for nightfall, but we can’t be sure we have that luxury.”
“And if we just make a run for it,” Rhona interjected, “those towers are likely to shoot us dead.”
“Homeless idiots it is, then,” Alastar agreed. He watched Gordon riding off to the east and wondered if the man had the better deal here, then began to unwrap his pack so that he could bundle it around his legs in a weird, not-quite-pants sort of way.
“That bath and whiskey mentioned earlier…” Rhona asked as she made her pack look like a short tan skirt. “You think that could be a reality here?”
Alastar checked for the coins Leila had included for them, and smiled. “It’s not like we’ll need these in Sair Talem.”
“Good, then let’s not delay a moment longer.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Kia smiled at Lannis, the boy she had met earlier that morning. It was partly because she was happy he was on this journey with them and partly in defiance of his uncle, who glared at her for doing so.
Some of the clansfolk, like this guy, thought that different magic types shouldn’t interact. Fire mages were known for leaping into trouble, wind mages for working through problems in less than noble ways, and water mages for being too pushy.
It was known.
But Kia refused to let her magic or the clan she was born into determine who she was, so she rejected such ideas. The only thing known to her was that some guys, like Lannis’ uncle, were dicks.
They had been riding north, deeper into the highlands, with their first destination being another wind clan. After that they would visit two water clans, followed by a fire clan that Donnon’s people had been in close contact with, though Kia had never met any of them.
It still surprised her, thinking about how little she had traveled as a child. Here she was, her tenth birthday fast approaching, and she was heading out into the world. Well, Roneland for now, the world later.
What her dad had said about becoming a hero like Valerie the Enforcer—made-up or not—was sounding more and more like a great idea. Her destiny, maybe. And now that she thought about it, with everyone in the world able to do magic, why weren’t there more heroes? She knew that Alastar and Rhona were definitely heroes. And then there was her dad, of course.
But why hadn’t she heard more stories about modern heroes? The paladins had their legends of Saint Rodrick, but the clans said he was just a clansman. Then there were those who said he was a nobody, a man who tried to gain glory for himself by stealing a sword that was never his to begin with.
To her nine-year-old mind, the question here wasn’t whether she should follow him or not, or even to believe the stories or not. She would simply ignore such talk instead. If people couldn’t agree on whether someone was a hero or not, she decided, said person wasn’t worth considering.
So she had her few personal heroes, and determined that she would be the first modern hero to be talked about across the lands. Throughout the world, perhaps.
“When we get there,” Oronth stated, picking up the pace to walk alongside Kia’s dad, “I’ll be doing the talking. They won’t take kindly to fire mages on their land.”
“The whole point is to convince them to work together,” Donnon replied.
“Exactly, so we’d best not upset them from the start.”
Kia smiled at the way her dad looked at her and rolled his eyes.
She knew he didn’t have to take any crap from Lannis’ uncle, but also knew he was smart enough to focus on cooperation above his pride. She respected that, and vowed to do the same.
This was a smaller village, with houses shaped by the wind and constructed to blend in with the trees. A man leapt from a tree and let the wind slow his fall before landing in their path. He had a crossbow in one hand, the other held out in warning.
“Halt! What business have you here?”
Donnon gave Oronth a “Go ahead” look, then waited.
“You know me,” Oronth began, stepping forward. The rest of their group of six men, three women, and two children stood waiting, and he gave them a glance as he continued, “You know that I would not travel with the likes of them unless it was necessary. We’re here to ask your assistance.”
The guard wrinkled his nose, clearly judging each of them in turn. “We were expecting you, though, not them.”
“The clans have to come together. Outside forces necessitate it.”
The guard nodded, then held up a hand. In response, three more guards leaped down from the tall trees and raised their crossbows to the ready.
“We will talk,” the guard agreed, “but you understand our hesitation.”
“Certainly,” Donnon replied. “Though if one of those crossbows is aimed anywhere near my daughter, I assure you this whole village and all of the trees around it will burn.”
“We don’t threaten children,” the guard said, glaring at him with a new level of hatred. “Nor would I advise threats to people you hope to partner with.”
Donnon shrugged. “Which group aimed weapons first?”
The guard’s left eye twitched, then he nodded in acceptance. “Follow me.”
With that, he spun on the heel of his boot and led them past the trees.
Before long the clans were in discussion, leaving Kia and Lannis at the edge of the circle of buildings. A strong wind blew in, blocking out much of what was said.
“They’re bringing the wind on purpose,” Lannis said with a smirk. “Just something we do.”
“Smart,” Kia admitted, “though I save my magic for when it’s really needed.”
He shrugged. “Could be others around they don’t want to overhear their conversation. It might not be merely for our benefit.”
“Why’re we sitting here doing nothing?” Kia asked, looking out over the trees from the edge of the raised platform they were sitting on.
“Because my uncle would kick my little arse,” Lannis replied. “His words, not mine.”
“Oh.” She laughed. “Sorry, I don’t mean it’s funny that he’d hurt you, if that’s what you mean. I mean, it wasn’t a ‘That’s funny’ laugh, but a ‘That’s horrible’ laugh.”
He brightened up. “Don’t you hate that? When someone scolds you for laughing at something because it ‘wasn’t funny?’” I mean, what, that idiot only laughs at funny stuff? Haven’t they heard of an ironic laugh, or a laugh that agrees they can’t understand how something so sad or horrible could happen?”
Kia nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! You know, for two kids, I’d say we’re pretty damn smart.”
“Probably wiser than all those adults in there,” Lannis agreed. “I think there’s a dumb stick that all adults are hit with or something. Like they get to a certain age and then it just happens. They’re walking along one day and BAM! Dumb stick to the face.”
Kia burst out laughing this time, and a moment later a guard came over and shushed them.
He stared at them a moment, then walked back to his post.
“Can they hear us over the wind?” Kia asked. “Like, magic, I mean? We can’t hear them, but they can hear us?”
Lannis shook his head. “No, the guard’s just being a jerk.”
She nodded, having figured as much.
After a moment of silence, Lannis began, “He doesn’t, by the way. My uncle, I mean.”<
br />
“Oh, you mean he doesn’t hit you?”
He nodded. “He’s all hot air. Talks a lot, but he’s a softie, really. Super tough on the outside, but holds his pinky up when drinking tea.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but nodded anyway.
Before she could say more, shouting started from within. A moment later, her dad came storming out and said, “Let’s go.” Oronth came out with the rest of their group and produced a gust of wind to carry them all down to the ground below.
“What happened?” Kia whispered as they stormed away.
“It seems not everyone agrees on who the enemy is,” her dad replied. “We told them about the threat—about the remnant, paladins, and the sorcerers, even—and they argued that the other clans have always been just as much of a threat as any of those groups, the sorcerers aside. But they don’t believe the sorcerers actually exist anyway.”
Lannis looked at his uncle, who nodded, frowning.
“Sorry about them,” Oronth apologized to the rest of the adults. “I didn’t know my people could be so…stubborn.”
One of the ladies laughed at this and Oronth blushed, but shrugged.
“Come on, let’s not dawdle,” another one said, so they kept moving. At the outskirts of the village, however, a group of teens dropped out of the trees and surrounded them. They were on the large side as teens went, especially from Kia’s point of view. They had sticks and rocks, and were glaring like they meant business.
“Never should’ve come here,” one of the teens growled.
“Your clan elders told us we have free passage to leave,” Oronth stated. “Step aside.”
“You know, the way I see it, the old ones will be gone eventually, and then it’s up to us,” the large teen with black hair covering most of his face told them. “And we want to make sure your people get this message loud and clear. We want nothing to do with you.”
He opened his hand and the rock in it flew. It would have hit Oronth upside the head if he hadn’t moved his hands and put up his own gust to divert it to the ground at his feet.
“Traitor,” the boy spat, black eyes narrowing.
The rest took up defensive positions, and Kia saw another open his hand, eyes going black as he turned to her dad. No way was she letting one of these jerks hurt him, she thought, as she stepped forward and thrust out her hands.
None of the attackers had expected a move from her, so they yelped as the air crackled around them and flames burst from the grass at their feet. They backpedaled, trying to use the wind to keep the flames away from them. Their actions worked to fan the flames instead, so in an instant there was a wall of flames between the two groups.
“Kia!” her dad shouted, and for the first time she saw him direct real anger at her.
She spun her hands and the flames died down to a mere glow, leaving everyone looking at her in shock.
“You tell them, Dad,” she said, voice barely more than a whisper. “They think about hurting you, they all burn. All of them.”
Nobody moved, and it was clear they had all heard her. Her dad’s eyes went wide and he knelt in front of her, taking her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “Being heroic doesn’t mean taking the most violent path. Sometimes it means turning away, sometimes it means being sure nobody is hurt…on either side.”
She frowned, then turned to look at the group of teens. They were terrified, and more than one of them had pissed himself.
“They wanted to hurt you, Dad. I saw it.”
He nodded, then hugged her. “Thank you.”
“You are all crazy,” the boy who had been threatening them shouted, and only then did Kia notice his eyebrows had been singed off.
As the teens ran away, her father stood and addressed the rest of the group. “We’ll approach the next clan differently in all regards, I promise.”
Oronth laughed, looking at Kia with a hint of actual respect. “I’d hope so, but it’s good to know we have nothing to worry about if they give us trouble.”
She blushed, then joined the rest of them in quickly departing. Nobody wanted to stay and find out if the elders would take action after learning what had happened, and Kia already felt drained. She figured it was best to let her energy recharge before attempting something like that again.
When they were far enough away, they all paused for a break. Kia sat down next to her dad, taking a swig of the water he offered her. Before she bit into the beef and crackers, she told him, “I refuse to ever let someone hurt you, Dad.”
He looked down at her, then smiled and wrapped an arm around her. “My Guardian Angel,” he declared with a chuckle, and she laughed too.
CHAPTER SIX
Walking along the streets of this coastal city was amazing, with its market and people moving around like nothing was wrong in the world. They were selling trinkets they made, fish they caught, and more.
Yet it was horrifying, because people kept looking at the trio like they were made of cow dung. They waddled through, holding their bundles of food in under their shirts, swords at their sides. Most people here didn’t have weapons so nice, so their disgust was mixed with confusion and envy.
Once they were off the main street, Alastar insisted they stop at the first stall that sold inexpensive clothing. He selected britches for them all, as the dresses were out of their price range and not practical for the journey to Sair Talem at any rate, then asked the plump lady where they could find a reasonably priced room.
“You want a room for you and the two ladies?” the woman asked with a wink. I know the perfect place.”
He shuddered, but decided he didn’t need to explain the whole sister thing, so instead he said, “No, just a place where we can sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“Sure, sure,” she agreed, winking again.
He just smiled, swallowing his irritation and hoping it hadn’t showed.
She pointed out an inn three streets from the water, which, she told them, had a nice view if you went to the rooftop.
“They have baths?” Rhona asked. “Please tell me they have a place to bathe.”
“The shared baths are just past the inn,” she said. “But be warned, the men’s eyes wander.”
“Shared baths?” Alastar asked.
The woman shrugged. “It’s economical. The rich have baths in their homes or castles, and the rest of us,” she gave him a doubtful look, trying to figure out which he was, “we make do with what we have access to.”
“Thank you,” he said, and paid her for the clothes.
They made their way to the hotel she had pointed out, observing various meats being sold on sticks, a man playing an old stringed instrument that Alastar had never seen or heard before, and someone who sold bottles of a drink he said was made from fermented potatoes.
Alastar couldn’t help but think it sounded disgusting, but then he also found the idea of whiskey—fermented grains, or so he understood—to be quite nasty. Not that he was much of a drinker, due to his vows.
Thinking alcohol was revolting helped paladins keep their vows, he thought as he passed, but was almost tempted as he watched three men take turns pounding shots of the stuff. One of them thumped his chest and growled like a bear. Alastar almost thought his eyes would change color and he’d actually become a bear, as they had seen the mystic do in the sinkhole, but the man just laughed and punched his friend in the shoulder. Apparently the friend thought this was hilarious, because he took another shot and punched his friend back.
“Weird people, these lowlanders,” Estair commented. “No offense.”
“You think I have anything in common with these people that would make me take offense?” He laughed. “Hardly.”
“I’d do a shot,” Rhona remarked with a shrug.
“Let’s get ourselves changed first,” Alastar declared. “Maybe a little rest, then see how you feel.”
“I’m not putting on new clothes until I have that bath,” Rhona replied.
“You he
ard what she said,” he replied. “Communal baths. The water’s probably as dirty as you are now.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” She turned to Estair. “And you?”
“I’m with you,” Estair agreed. “I want the smell of horse off me. Some strange man wants to gawk at me, I’d prefer to get paid, but…” She saw the look on Alastar’s face and held up both hands. “Kidding, kidding. But this place, it’s not my first. Hold a cloth in front of you when you’re not in the water, and it’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t know how comfortable I feel with either of you parading yourselves around,” he grumbled as they turned down the street that led to the hotel.
“Like she said,” Rhona replied, “we’ll be covered, somewhat.”
“Great. Real comforting.”
He paid for a room and got the key, then led them to a corner unit that wasn’t much larger than the three cots jammed into it; they weren’t actual beds, but they would do. The walls weren’t exactly white, though it was clear they had once been painted to appear so. Now they were lined with dark smudges, and in one place a bit of red.
“I don’t care,” Alastar said, as much to himself as the women. “I’m just…gonna pass out.”
He collapsed onto one of the cots, mumbled something about grabbing food when he woke up, and then he was out.
***
While Alastar snored away on his cot, Rhona stared at the ceiling, trying to think about Donnon but just feeling too dirty and anxious.
“You awake?” Estair asked.
Rhona sat up, glad to see Estair standing at the small window on her tippy-toes so she could see out.
“I’m going to the baths,” the clanswoman whispered. “Coming?”
“You’re with my brother. I hope this isn’t some ploy to catch a glimpse of the goods.”
“Believe me, if I wanted you, I’d have you,” Estair told her, turning with a smile. “But the last time I looked at a female like that I was fourteen, and I quickly decided that wasn’t my style.”
“Oh?”
“I was curious, as anyone might be. A girl I know leaned in to kiss me, and the idea of it just felt all wrong. Couldn’t do it, and even tasted a bit of bile at the idea.”