“It has to be done,” she said to herself.
Celaise drifted away from Jerani and the Greathearts and toward the flat horizon.
“We can't let her go into the lands alone,” Jerani said. “Don't we owe her a warrior's debt?”
“She came here by herself,” the Holy Woman said, “and she can be leaving the same way.”
Celaise was floating away over the grassland. She looked tall and commanding, but Jerani knew she wore an illusion. Under the falsehood, she was a cripple without her crutch. And under that, she is strength, courage, and kindness.
She might seem to glide, but in truth she hobbled. Celaise could protect herself at night, but the days were long. The thought of her traveling under the shadows of the vulture kings made him feel as if he were stuffed with knife grass. The Bright Palm would track her, would catch her. Jerani and the Greathearts would not kill Gio, not after he had helped save them. For the same reason, Jerani could never let Celaise be hurt.
I could help her, he thought. It would mean leaving everything for her. For a Feaster.
He remembered the fire jewels she had given him and the calf. Jerani thought of how she had held his sister, how Anza had even called the outlander a friend. After his sister and brother had been hurt, a claw hand had touched his shoulder—Her hand—and he heard her telling him she was sorry.
Jerani knew what he had to do. He was not sure he could do it. Hesitating, he stood at the edge of his tribe. He did not want to leave Anza and Wedan, but he had been ready to do that to save them from the Rock-Backs. Celaise had been the one to save them all.
Leaving would be hard, but not as hard as watching Celaise go and wondering about her for the rest of his life. He knew how to hide tracks. With his help no Bright Palm would ever catch her.
His tribe owed Celaise a great debt. A debt he would pay, and gladly.
A breeze of cinnamon and cacao wafted over Celaise in a heady draft. She did not turn to look at Jerani as he stepped in line behind her, though her insides fluttered with bat wings.
“Don't try to tell me to go back,” he said. “I'm staying with you.”
Celaise found she had no wish to tell him any such thing. A peculiar warmth seeped through her chest, almost as if she had enjoyed a large meal and now floated in the heat of fullness.
Now she could not help but steal a glance at him. She did not want to tell him to go, but she feared what would happen to him if he stayed. Worry swirled within her in snowy drafts along with gusts of warm hope.
“I think,” Celaise said, “that I can protect you from my brothers and sisters.”
“So you do have family?”
“We Feasters have each other, but that isn't much.” She paused to gaze back at him. “Would you walk beside me?”
He looked uncomfortable about it, but he stepped forward. Delightful shadows slid around his waist and over his lean abdomen as he matched her pace with a sure stride, spear propped over his shoulder.
“You would be better off away from me.” Her magic smoothed words that she would have stuttered from the jangle of emotions inside her. “Feasters walk on the edges.”
“Not to worry,” he said. “We Greathearts are sure of foot.”
“And none of us are the best of people.”
“Maybe that's true for other Feasters, but not for you.”
He reached to touch her shoulder. His fingers slid through her gown into the nip of the empty sky, and he held them there until she began to feel chilled for him.
“What if,” she said with eyes pointed at the starry horizon, “a girl hurt people, fed off them for years, but then she saves a lot of lives. Would that make her even? I mean, with the world.”
“I'd say it would.”
Celaise asked, “And if she kept on saving people? There're many kinds of predators, and if she hunted only them, then she's not doing any harm, is she?”
Jerani's grin glowed with moonlight and hid his scars. “Then I'd call her a hero.”
“I think she'd like that.” A smile warmed her face.
Celaise merged herself with her center of vulnerability and lifted an arm toward Jerani. He took it, and she leaned against him. She told herself she only did it so she could move faster. Her vulnerability was sluggish tonight.
The empty heights of her dress filled with thousands of pink flowers, and cherry blossoms adorned her. As Celaise and Jerani walked arm and arm through the night, her dress ruffled with the sighing of petals in the breeze of a spring day.
Thank you for reading
Gown of Shadow and Flame,
a tale told of the Lands of Loam.
~
Be the First to Know of book releases
and receive the occasional secret chapter
by joining the mailing list at
http://aemarling.com/
As an independent storyteller, A.E. Marling
lacks a corporate advertising budget,
but your recommendation is more powerful
than any ad.
Become a patron of fantasy storytelling
by recommending this eBook to a friend
and reviewing it online.
Meet the humble scribe:
http://aemarling.com/
on Facebook as AEMarling,
and Twitter: @AEMarling
~
For a darker story featuring the Lord of the Feast
up to his three necks in schemes and Black Wine,
try:
And he also lurks in an oasis city
where desert foxes are gods,
and rivers fly:
Gown of Shadow and Flame Page 26