“Can we talk?” Bowe asked.
“We are talking.”
“I meant without the nastiness.”
Iyra looked up. “Oh. Well, in that case, probably not.”
“Perhaps you’ll at least hear me out. At the start of today, I wanted to have it out with you about Washima and the Jarindors. I felt like I’d been used—”
“Well, if that’s—”
Bowe raised his hand. “Hear me out. I’ve changed my mind. I’ve spent plenty of time thinking on the journey here, and I decided that I have no right to criticize your choices. I’ve lived my whole life within the ascor world. Even when that world has been brutal, such as when we walked the Green Path, it was still within the ascor world. I know nothing of the escay world.” Even though I might actually be one, Bowe thought, remembering his conversation with Coensaw. “Three years ago, when you first met me, I was a stone-faced idiot. Can you be extremely smart and incredibly dumb at the same time?”
Iyra looked from where she was turning the meat over the fire, seemed to be about to say something, then changed her mind. She threw another piece of wood into the fire.
“I had seen nothing of the world outside the harem and knew less,” Bowe continued. “The only escay I knew were servants who bowed and scraped to me. I don’t think I considered them real people. I know that’s a horrible thing to say.”
“You’re not the only ascor to think like that.” Iyra watched the flickering fire.
“Anyway, I met you three years ago when I still had these wrong-headed notions about escay. They weren’t ideas that I thought out loud in my head, but ideas that were inside my heart. Ones that I didn’t know were even there. They’re the hardest to change, I believe, thoughts and ideas buried so deeply inside yourself you don’t know they are there. It was only through what I did that I knew the wrong-headed notions were there. I’ve tried to change them—perhaps I haven’t fully done that yet, but I think I’ve succeeded to some degree.
“But three years ago...” Bowe tried to catch Iyra’s gaze but she stared into the fire. “Three years ago, I thought I knew everything, and I knew nothing. I was attracted to you, but thought there was something wrong in that. So one moment I was pulling you toward me, and the next I was shoving you to the ground or making accusations. You remember, I’m sure.”
This time Iyra looked up. “I remember,” she said.
“Yes, well.” Bowe found it was he who couldn’t hold her gaze. He stood, took a pace to the side, then stepped back toward Iyra. The clearing wasn’t wide enough for any more than that. “I wanted to call a truce to our hostilities. It would make the rest of our journey more pleasant but I can understand why you wouldn’t agree. I was horrible to you, and I know you’re only helping me because you have to. But I wanted to let you know that I’m truly sorry for how I was three years ago, and I appreciate your help then, and I continue to appreciate your help now.”
Iyra muttered something but Bowe didn’t hear her. “What was that?” he asked.
There was a long pause while Iyra stared into the fire. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally. “But possibly my thoughts about you are not those out-loud ones that can easily be changed.”
“Are they wrong-headed, though?”
“Possibly. Time will tell.”
There wasn’t much talk for the rest of the evening. They ate in silence, both lost in their thoughts.
When they lay down for the night, a smile twitched into life upon Bowe’s lips as he tried to catch a glimpse of starlight through the dark canopy of trees. Possibly. Time will tell. Even though nothing had really changed about his situation, Bowe felt happier falling asleep that night than he had since The Fool’s Hope had set sail.
* * *
It was dark, and the air was thick. Those two things were enough to identify that Bowe was inside the Refuge. He crept forward. There was a vague sense of menace in the air. There was a figure up ahead, and Bowe moved toward him. From the man’s clothes and bearing he was clearly an escay, but perhaps he knew what was going on, how to get out. Bowe touched his arm and the escay turned around; Bowe screamed because the person wore his face. He ran.
He ran down the stairs in Bellanger Mansion and into to the great hall. The throne was occupied by that same escay wearing Bowe’s face. Bowe kept running. He opened a door and entered a room where each wall was a mirror. And each mirror showed the escay with Bowe’s face. He looked for a way to escape, but the door had disappeared. Bowe couldn’t stand looking at that imposter wearing his face, so he ran to each wall and broke each mirror with his fists. But when he’d returned to the first mirror, it had broken into shards, and each shard reflected a smaller version of the escay. Bowe beat at the shards, trying to destroy the mirrors so they’d never reflect again.
After frantically hammering on every shard he could find, smashing them into smaller and smaller pieces, he was finally able to spin around and see nothing except cracked mirror. But then the pieces of glass began to fall from the walls. Bowe ran, ducking down and covering the back of his neck with his hands, but the pieces of glass fell upon his head and his back. They cut into him. He couldn’t escape the falling shards of glass and he knew that each one, no matter how tiny, contained an image of the escay who had stolen his face.
Bowe lurched forward. The embers of the dying fire glowed orange. Across the way, Iyra was sitting up.
Bowe panted. It felt like he’d just run in reality rather than merely in a dream. “Sorry for waking you.”
“I hadn’t fallen asleep,” Iyra said. “I wasn’t sure whether it was best to wake you or not. Was it the same nightmare as you usually have?”
“No. A different one.” Just what he needed—a whole new strand of nightmares. He lay back down and looked into the night sky. Perhaps he was wrong when he’d told Iyra earlier that he had changed. Deep down, he hated the idea that he could be an escay. Coensaw had told him that there was no difference between ascor and escay except where they lived and how they were brought up. But perhaps that was one of his lies. And even if it wasn’t, could Bowe make himself believe it? Bowe didn’t want to fall back asleep, but eventually he did.
Chapter 8
Day 13
They set up camp in the early evening on the edge of the forest just outside Belldeem.
It had been a long day, but a good one. Bowe had talked and laughed with Iyra for most of the journey. She had told him about her little shop where she made carvings and Bowe had told her little anecdotes about life in Bellanger Mansion. They had kept the conversation light—whenever it had threatened to go into a more controversial area, they’d diverted to safer topics. There had been thick sections of the forest to get through earlier in the day, but the forest had thinned out as they approached Belldeem. The journey hadn’t been as bad as other days. That was either due to Bowe getting more used to travel or due to him enjoying it more because of a more amicable companion. Bowe suspected the latter.
There was no fire that evening; they were too close to the village and didn’t want to draw attention. After a cold meal, they sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk, listening to the last of the evening birdsong. Bowe didn’t want to break the spell of the day, but they had to talk about more serious matters. The journey to Belldeem was over, and Bowe had no idea what was to come next. “What happens tomorrow?”
Iyra sighed. “I’m not sure.”
“This is your job done. You’ve taken me to Belldeem.”
“I can’t just leave it at this. You heard what those marshals in the forest said. Dulnato sent them and others to look for you. I can’t just let you wander into the village to get caught.”
“It’s not your responsibility,” Bowe said. “You’ve done your part. More than your part—you saved me from bandits and bandaged me back together a few times. I can’t ask any more of you.” The problem was that Bowe had no idea what he was to do. The only places where he knew how to survive on his own were at an ascor ball or at t
he Harmony table, which wasn’t much good out here.
“I’ll go and talk to someone tomorrow. See if I he can figure out what to do with you.”
“I don’t deserve all the help you’re giving me.”
“I know.” She let out a long sigh. “I’m such a sucker. A pretty speech last night about how you’ve changed, and I’m back wanting to help you.”
“Why did you do it three years ago?” Bowe asked. “That’s one thing I could never understand. Why keep helping me when I treated you so badly?”
Iyra turned away, her cheeks flushing. “It’s actually embarrassing. I thought I was...I thought I was in love with you.”
Bowe didn’t say anything. He thought about the dreams he’d had about her even though he hadn’t seen her in three years and the strong attraction he’d felt for her since he’d met her again. Was that love?
“It was so stupid,” Iyra continued. “I joined the Guild because I hated everything about the ascor, and then the first ascor I met—he treated me like I was something he had scraped off his shoe—and I thought I was in love with him.”
It was Bowe’s turn to be embarrassed. He couldn’t defend himself, for he had acted that badly. “I’m sorry.”
“And I swore I’d never again fall into that trap, and a few days after we’ve met, here I am, desperately trying to save you from being killed.”
“I won’t make you regret it this time,” Bowe promised. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not the same person I was three years ago.”
Iyra looked up at him and stared straight into his eyes until Bowe was forced to look away. “So why do I have this horrible sensation that I’m going to be let down again?” she asked.
“You won’t be, I swear it.” Bowe lifted his little finger automatically. Like kids who hooked little fingers whenever they swore something. He felt embarrassed when he realized what he’d done, but with a little smile Iyra hooked her little finger around his. Escay children must do the same, he thought. Their hands fell to the side, but their little fingers remained intertwined.
“I want to believe you and at the same time I want to hit myself over the head for even considering trusting you.”
Bowe shrugged. “People have a tendency to want to hit themselves over the head when they meet me. Some call it a gift, some a curse.”
Iyra laughed. “Not sure how that could be considered a gift.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“You’ve a strange definition of charm.”
“Bet this conversation also makes you want to hit yourself over the head,” Bowe suggested.
“Now that you mention it.”
Bowe grinned. “There you go. Circular logic is another part of my charm.”
Iyra laughed again. “You’re crazy. You must have fallen on your head or something when you were younger. Maybe that’s why you have mush for brains.”
Bowe rubbed his head. “That would explain my lumpy head. That and Urdo’s recent overzealous ministrations.”
“He isn’t exactly a gentle sort.” Iyra shook her head. “We were lucky they let us out of there. For a while I thought the bandit queen was seriously considering killing you.”
“She certainly was. Luckily for me, Urdo and Big Boona ended up disappointed. I wasn’t the only one in danger. Meelyn didn’t react too well when you admitted to consorting with outlanders.”
Iyra shook her hand free of Bowe’s and stood up. “I knew you’d come back to that. I should have convinced Meelyn to allow me to tell her privately.”
“You can trust me, you know that.” Bowe reached for Iyra’s arm but she pulled away from him.
“No, I don’t,” she said. “I know you hate the idea of the Jarindor invasion. And why wouldn’t you. You are part of the enemy that the Jarindors and I aim to fight against. In fact, you are the very heart of that enemy. One of the Guardians.”
“I’m not like the others, though. I know it’s not right. The way things are at the moment. The way we treat the escay. The Green Path. There has to be a better way.”
“I didn’t hear anything about you fighting for escay rights when you were Guardian. You didn’t say anything against the Green Path.”
“I need to gain power before I can wield any. I was a Guardian in name only.” Bowe picked up a pinch of dust and sprinkled it on his palm. “Once they decided to move against me, only the slightest puff,” Bowe said, blowing the dirt off of his hand, “and I was gone. Even though I pretended, even to myself, I never had any real power. Certainly no power to affect change such as the kind you’re talking about.” He hadn’t really thought about affecting that kind of change either. He had put off thinking about what would happen when the next Green Path arrived, and instead concentrated on rebuilding the family.
“And now that you know something that the rest of the ascor don’t? About the invasion. I imagine you have been figuring out ways to put that to good use,” Iyra said. “How to use that knowledge to help you regain your position.”
Bowe had been thinking along those lines. But perhaps he was wrong to. Iyra didn’t deserve her confidence betrayed. “I swear I won’t tell anyone what you told me about the invasion.”
“What does an oath mean to an ascor?” Iyra asked. “For you, aren’t lies and truth two sides of the one coin?”
“No. Or I mean yes. I mean...” Bowe shook his head and stood up. He had sworn four times recently, beginning with when he promised on Vitarr’s life not to betray Tee. Each time, Bowe had taken his oath seriously and intended to keep it. “The words of an ascor aren’t worth much. Truth is not one of our values. But I believe myself to be different. No, I know I’m different. I intend to keep my blood oath to Meelyn and Big Boona.” Bowe smiled. “And I swore to you that I wouldn’t make you regret helping me, and that I won’t betray what you’ve told me about the Jarindor invasion. I intend to keep both of those promises.” Bowe held up his left hand, which was still bandaged. “Do I need to open up my veins again for you to believe me?”
Iyra smiled. “Not sure you have much blood left after the last few days. We’d better conserve it. I’ll try to trust you.”
“I’m so glad.” Bowe touched Iyra’s arm. “When will it happen?” he asked. “This invasion.”
“I’m not sure. It could be any day, to be honest.”
“And how come the Jarindors let you and the other Guild members know about it? Surely it would be better for them if his invasion was a complete surprise.”
“Washima doesn’t just want it to be a foreign invasion. He wants the escay to have a simultaneous popular rising.” Iyra looked up and seemed to become aware of how close they stood to each other. She took a step back. “We’d better get to bed. I’ll get up early and go into Belldeem and see if I can sort something out for you. No idea what that could be right now.”
Bowe nodded and moved toward his bedroll, opened it out, and lay down. Iyra did the same. Bowe couldn’t sleep, though; he was hyper aware that Iyra was so close. This hadn’t been a problem the other nights; he didn’t know what had changed.
Iyra’s breathing indicated that she wasn’t sleeping either. “Am I going to be kept up by your nightmares again tonight?” she asked after a while.
“Probably,” Bowe said.
“So you have them every night?”
Bowe sighed. “Afraid so. They started when I was in the Refuge and they haven’t stopped yet.”
“Do you know what causes them?”
“Who can say? Dreams are dreams. They don’t have rhyme or reason.”
“Are you sure?” Iyra asked. “It was only after the Refuge they started. After the Green Path. Perhaps there’s something behind them. Perhaps they’re trying to tell you something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Bowe had often thought that there might some message in his dreams. But if so, he hadn’t been able to find it. Well, apart from the very latest dream—that had had an obvious message. In general, though, the only thing about the nightmare
s that he was sure of was that they woke him up panicked and sweating each time. “Might have something to do with the friends I lost to the Green Path. Vitarr and Edison and Glil.”
“Do you see them in your nightmares?” Iyra asked.
Bow nodded. “I can’t always remember what has happened, but when I do, I see those three more often than anything else.
“What about your mother?” Iyra asked.
“What about her?” Bowe’s voice was sharp.
“I heard that you were resp...” Iyra hesitated and changed what she’d been about to say. “I heard that you were there when she died.”
“That was before the Green Path, and it wasn’t my fault. She wasn’t my real mother anyway.” Bowe wrapped his blankets more tightly around him and turned onto his side so he faced away from her. “And I never see her in my nightmares.”
Iyra didn’t reply, and after a while came the soft, rhythmic sounds of her sleeping breaths. Bowe tossed and turned and it was a long time before he fell asleep.
Chapter 9
Day 14
Bowe always hated waiting around with nothing to do, but he hated it more out here. All types of insects wanted to crawl on him if he sat still for any length of time. Fresh and vibrant and full of life—that was what he’d heard the forest called by those who liked to go on outings and picnics. But that wasn’t what he experienced, sitting on a decaying tree trunk. The overriding flavor of the place, as far as he was concerned, was the wet pungent smell of rotting vegetation. It was more full of death than life.
Bowe’s trip since he’d left the city had consisted of several awful days, followed by one pleasant one. After the last day, he had begun to wonder whether he was getting used to this life. But this morning had answered that question. As he waited for Iyra to return from Belldeem, Bowe realized how much he missed city life and how much he disliked being in the forest. The pleasant day had been due to Iyra’s company, not the yearning for a woodsman’s life.
The Treacherous Path (The Narrowing Path Series Book 2) Page 9