“So, do you still want to try to sneak into their compound to visit?” Kali took Kale’s hand.
“It’s only another week, right?” Kale pushed away the bowl of cold, goopy porridge. “It’s probably better to wait a week than risking making the wizards angry. Delilah used to threaten to turn people into toads or cave lizards, but I bet there are wizards there who could actually do it.”
“Fine. Speaking of lizards, we should go check on ours. They probably need to be ridden, if they haven’t eaten all the other animals in the stable.”
Kali had a point. Kale was so wrapped up in wanting to see his sister, he’d forgotten about their mounts. “I’m glad you’re around to remember things like that for me.”
His mate enwrapped him in a hug. “Someone has to keep you in line.”
* * *
As Gisella tightened the straps on her saddle, Qaliah approached her. “I have a question, and a request.”
She did not meet the fiendling’s eyes. Gisella had nothing against Qaliah, but she found herself annoyed the fiendling followed them and insisted on tagging along. Unexpected changes in her plans exasperated Gisella almost more than any other type of interruption.
Gisella’s lack of acknowledgement did not deter Qaliah. “You know the route we’re taking pretty well, right? Is there a town or village we’re going to pass so I can get a mighty steed of my own?” She held out her hand for Moonsilver. The mare shied away from it.
“Yes.” Gisella saw no reason to lie. “I doubt you’ll be able to afford it, though. The farmers around here hold their horses in high regard.”
“I’ve scrimped and saved my pennies. I have more than that parting stipend.”
“Was that your request or your question?”
“That was the request. My question is for you: what’s a Watchmaiden got love for Aurora for? I thought you people were all swords and bearskins, mead halls, and singing bawdy songs about your conquests.”
It was unusual for a person from the Four Watches to hold the goddess of beauty and love in higher regard than all the other gods and goddesses. “Just like all fiendlings are seducers and murderers, bathing in the blood of virgins at the altar of Maris, right?” Gisella didn’t believe it, of course, but she was acquainted with many people who did. The sight of horns, black or red skin, and a tail was enough to send many villages into total panic, even if the fiendling was an innocent traveler passing through. She understood their trepidation; one born from the union of something evil, must, itself, be evil. Experience taught her the truth often did not match common folk’s expectations.
“I’ve never done that. Sure, I’ve stolen to survive, but I’ve never murdered. I don’t even like Maris. War gods are so grim and have no sense of humor or fun.”
Gisella mounted Moonsilver. She held a hand out to Qaliah. “You can ride with me today. We might reach Rock Ridge by nightfall. You can buy a horse there, I think.”
She pulled Qaliah up to sit behind her. “Hold tight. I don’t want you to fall off.” Gisella pulled Qaliah’s arms around her waist, and the fiendling rested her head on the slayer’s back.
“You sure? You don’t seem thrilled I’m here at all.”
Gisella patted the fiendling’s hands around her waist. “Another woman’s company is most welcome. I was disconcerted at the change in plans, that’s all.” She looked toward the minotaur and dwarf. Pancras and Edric were already mounted and ready to go.
“Truth be told, I’m glad you were able to get away from Muncifer. It pained me to see you play the fool. I always suspected you could be more than that.”
The fiendling squeezed her. “I appreciate that.”
They spurred their horses and rode toward the road. Clouds rolled in overnight, casting a grey pallor over the day, and with the warmth of the sun hidden, Gisella was reminded of how early into spring it was. The damp morning air made the chill even more pronounced.
Midmorning, the heavens opened. Wind blew torrential rain across the hills and road. Gisella contemplated stopping but decided huddling together under a blanket on the soggy ground was no better than traveling forward on a wet horse. She figured if they continued moving, there was a chance of outrunning the storm.
The day grew dark, and the downpour continued unabated until, at last, through the haze of rain, Gisella noticed the lights of a village ahead. The deluge threated to quench the torches at the village gate, and Gisella strained to read the sign above the entrance: Rock Ridge.
She dismounted and approached the gate. It was shut tight, with no guards in sight. That, in itself, was not unusual for small villages and towns along the trade road at night and in periods of bad weather. She pounded on the wicket in the gate.
“Hopefully, the guards are nearby.”
Pancras hopped off Stormheart. The horse tossed his head, spraying them with water. “If they’ve any sense, they’re inside.”
The wicket opened. Holding his torch aloft, a frowning guard appeared. Rain dripped down his face, causing his ample moustache to droop like a drowned rat. “Ain’t you got sense to get in out of the rain?”
“If you’ll notice”—Gisella gestured toward the rest of her group—“that’s precisely what we’re trying to do.”
The guard grunted. Closing the wicket, he opened the main gate. “All right then, come ahead. Toma’s place has stables and beds. It’s just up the road on the right, across from the Lord’s Tower. There’s a shrine of Dolios next to Toma’s, if you want to leave an offering.”
He waited until they trekked past him and then shut and latched the gate. He grumbled and complained as he shuffled back to the guard house. Gisella led the group down the main street in search of the place the guard described. Streams of water ran down the street, creating rivulets of mud and muck that coated their horses’ feet.
She found the building described by the guard. It appeared to be a private home with an attached stable. No one attended the stable, so Gisella tied up her horse and had the others wait while she investigated the building.
Pancras tossed his reins to Qaliah and joined Gisella. “It’s dangerous to go alone.”
“In Rock Ridge?” Gisella laughed. “Maybe if I slip in the mud and crack my head on a rock.” She stepped around the building, holding the hood of her cloak to keep the wind from blowing it off her head. Her helmet provided some relief from the rain, but wearing metal armor in an early spring rain emphasized how cold water falling from the sky became before it froze.
A stoop led to the building’s door. She used the attached knocker and waited. Through the windows, Gisella noticed a dim light moving within the dwelling. The clanking of turning locks preceded the whoosh of whoever stood behind it yanking open the door. A one-eyed, bearded man squinted at them through the rain. “Yes? Travelers? Come in! Come in! This weather is not fit for fine folk to be out in it.”
Gisella let Pancras pass her and enter the building. She placed two fingers to her lips, whistled, and hoped Qaliah and Edric would hear her. Her concern was unfounded, and they appeared, dashing from behind the building. When they were all inside, the older man helped them remove their cloaks.
“Aren’t you a motley bunch? Minotaur, dwarf, human”—he eyed Qaliah—“well, that’s something. Reminds me of a joke. You’ll be needing lodging for the night?”
“Yes, please.” Gisella bowed her head to the man.
Pancras fished in his pouch. She heard the jingling of coins. “Beds, baths if possible, food if you have any.”
“Only two rooms left.” The man counted on his fingers. “Plenty of food, as always. Four talons?”
“It would be best if Qaliah and I shared a room. You and Edric can make do, yes?” Gisella passed a couple of talons to Pancras.”
The minotaur nodded and handed coins to the man. “No baths?”
“There’s a tub. Not big enough for a minotaur. We don’t have any more hot water tonight though.” He led them through the foyer into a dining room. A long table was se
t with plates and food. Several people, humans all, were already seated and eating.
“I’m Egor. I’ll bring up some more wine for everyone. Sit, eat. We’ll work out the rooms when you’ve food in your bellies.”
Gisella helped herself to bread and meat. She noticed the other guests staring at Qaliah and then coughing and looking away when the fiend noticed and winked at them. The attention seemed to please rather than bother her, even though they regarded her, not with lust or curiosity, but with fear.
During dinner, they discussed their plans for the next day. By the time they retired to their beds, they all agreed to stay in town until the rain let up, giving their horses a rest and themselves a chance to clean and dry their mud-soaked clothes.
The Golden Slayer retired to the room she shared with Qaliah. The fiendling slipped out of her clothes and into bed, patting the mattress next to her with a smile. “Let’s keep each other warm and celebrate Aurora together, eh?”
Gisella felt her face flush. Turning away, she cursed in silence that the fiendling managed to embarrass her. She sat on the opposite side of the bed from Qaliah. The fiendling scooted over, grabbed Gisella’s shoulders, and tried to pull her into the bed.
“Stop it.”
Qaliah ran a hand through Gisella’s hair. “You’re very beautiful, and it’s been a long time since I didn’t have to settle.”
Gisella grabbed the fiendling’s hand. Her flesh was warm, almost hot to the touch. “I will not deny that you have an allure I’m sure men find irresistible, however”—she placed Qaliah’s hand on the bed and patted it—“I am not interested.” Gisella decided upon leaving Muncifer she’d enjoyed her last night of carnal pleasure until this task was done.
“What?” Qaliah scooted over farther, so her head hung off Gisella’s side of the bed, looking up at her.
“I like men, and only men. I’m sorry.” Gisella hoped Qaliah wasn’t too upset. Fiendlings could be volatile, and she had not expected the young woman to proposition her. They shared a room out of necessity. Gisella assumed Pancras and the dwarf would be more comfortable together.
“Men are fine, but the dwarf is too stout and hairy for my taste and the minotaur is, well, a minotaur.” Qaliah stared up at Gisella with doe eyes, clear and blue, like ice from a deep lake in the heart of the Southern Watch.
“I can go sleep in the stable with the horses if it’s easier for you.” She flipped the covers over Qaliah to conceal her nakedness.
The fiendling flipped off the covers and repositioned herself on her side of the bed before drawing them up to her chin. “I can behave myself. If you’re not interested, you’re not interested. I’m sad for you.”
Gisella slid off the bed and picked up her belongings. Qaliah gasped. “You were serious? Don’t go!”
The Golden Slayer looked over her shoulder. The girl’s expression was one of concern. “It’s no trouble, really.”
“Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable just now, but those men downstairs? They weren’t looking at me like they wanted to have some fun, all right? I noticed. I really do not want to be alone in here. I’ll go sleep with the dwarf and minotaur if I have to. In fact, I will.” She slid out of bed and pulled on her clothes. Gisella remained silent as she gathered her things and left.
Gisella sighed, dropped her pack, and then crawled under the covers. It was not the outcome she intended, but she wasn’t going to squander the opportunity of a peaceful night’s rest.
* * *
By the end of her first day under the tutelage of Master Valyrian, Delilah understood the breadth of the gaps in her knowledge. There were whole schools of magic about which she’d never heard. Both she and Pancras were fairly specialized in their knowledge of wizardry, and though they performed a smattering of the arcane arts outside their areas of expertise, Delilah realized she should have worked alongside him to learn as much as possible. Instead, her own pride in her abilities convinced her she knew as much as he did, albeit in a different discipline.
Master Valyrian was more patient than the archmage was with her, and she was grateful official guild business kept Archmage Vilkan from bothering to find her over the next couple of days. She said as much to Katka one night as they prepared for bed.
“I don’t know why he thinks he needs to watch me constantly. I’m here now, I’m learning, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Katka brushed her boots, trying to knock as much dirt and mud from them as possible. “I’ve heard other masters say he likes to control everything. They don’t like him much, I don’t think.”
“Why’d they let him become archmage, then?” Delilah didn’t understand why someone didn’t just kick him out if they disliked him that much.
“Maybe they didn’t have a choice.” Katka blew dust off her boot. “How’s Master Valyrian? He’s so pretty. I could watch him all day.”
Delilah chuckled and shook her head. “His skin is too smooth, and he’s foppish. I have to admit, though, he knows his magic. I’m going to pass the next trial.” She was sure of it. Delilah suspected the only reason she failed the first time was because she didn’t know how to create a magical shield. She’d heard students utter the words to create the effect, but knowing the words was not the same as understanding how to use them effectively. Without practice, she had no hope of executing one of those spells in the heat of the moment.
Dropping her boots onto the floor, Katka lay across her bed and interlaced her fingers behind her head. “I hope I pass this next time. I’m not the oldest initiate by any stretch, but I’ve been here the longest.”
“You have to really focus for attack magic.” Delilah wanted to see the girl advance. She enjoyed the young human’s company, and she wanted them to be able to continue helping each other. “Everything you’ve got, you know? In the heat of battle, you don’t have time to finesse a spell with the idea that you can add more power the next time. There might not be a next time.”
“I guess. I’ve never even been in a fight.” Darkness crept in around them as the other students extinguished their lights. Delilah blew out her candle, and Katka followed suit.
She crawled into bed and faced the other student’s bunk. “Maybe we can practice tomorrow. I’ll help if I can.”
“Thanks, Delilah.”
Sleep came quickly to Delilah. She dreamt of her brother and her friends, and also Sarvesh and Bargle back in Drak-Anor. When morning came, she was refreshed, but upon hearing the archmage’s summons, she wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed. She pulled herself together and gave a weak smile to Katka as she ran to meet with the archmage.
Archmage Vilkan paced the floor of the Court of Wizardry. Other high wizards were in attendance, but they conversed with each other and paid no mind to the archmage. He stopped pacing when he saw Delilah.
“It’s about time, Initiate Drak. Where have you been?”
Delilah wanted to bash him in the face with her staff. “I ran over here as soon as I heard the summons.”
He stroked his beard. “No matter. You will attend me today. The archduke is paying us a visit. I’ll give you both a demonstration of true power.”
Delilah wanted nothing to do with the Archduke of Muncifer, nor with the archmage’s demonstration of power. She smoothed her robes. She bowed her head and nodded. “As you wish, Archmage.”
* * *
Kale stroked the side of Kali’s head as she lay with her head in his lap. She held the broadsheet above her head and read it for the third or fourth time. “You know, I think we can use this sacred drak thing to our advantage.”
He looked down at his mate. “How do you mean?”
“If he’s excited about Delilah telling him about Drak-Anor, he should be even more excited to get a second perspective, right?”
Draks generally viewed their striped brethren as sacred. When the draks from Kale and Delilah’s clan learned they were hatched from the same egg, their attitudes changed. They viewed twins as just one step above abominat
ions. Having stripes was the only thing that saved Kale and Delilah from having been abandoned at birth because the elders couldn’t decide which took priority: that they had stripes or that they were twins.
“I don’t know. Is this a good idea? Maybe if you can convince him to come up here to talk. I don’t want to get mobbed in the undercity again.” Kale didn’t mind being the center of attention when he did something that deserved it, but the adoration of the draks in the undercity made his skin crawl.
“I’ll go ask.” Kali let the paper fall to the floor. “You should get them used to seeing you walking around, though. We can’t stay cooped up in here all the time. The weather is becoming warmer, and it would be a shame to stay inside. There will be enough of that in the winter.”
Kale conceded the point. “Maybe if I cough some fire on them, they’ll keep their distance.”
“Ooh, we might be able to use that, too.” Kali sat up and spun to face him. “You’d be a great distraction for an enterprising pickpocket.”
“I thought we wanted to stay out of trouble.” Kale did not fancy seeing the inside this city’s jail. Once in Muncifer was enough.
“Trouble sure, but I wouldn’t mind having a little fun, you know?” She reached over and stroked Kale’s cheek. “I’ll be honest, I don’t want to stay cooped up in here, but I don’t want to go all over town without you. You’re my mate. We’re in this together. That’s what we said, right?”
“Right.” Kale took her hand and closed his eyes. Despite having his mate alongside him, he felt alone without Delilah nearby. So many things remained unsaid between them when she entered the Arcane University compound. Since she was sequestered there, he feared there might not be a chance to clear the air. He understood her resentment of Kali, but they had often discussed how they would eventually have to follow their own paths. He realized now that neither one of them ever really believed the time would come to pass.
Kali’s right about one thing: we can’t stay cooped up in here. As he fell asleep, he ruled out ideas one by one of how best to handle unruly crowds. A feeling of hopelessness followed him into his dreams and fitful sleep. The next morning, Kale awoke with no fresh ideas and no clue how to discourage the crowds.
Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) Page 15