by Ben Cassidy
Joseph poured the boiling water into the mug, but said nothing.
Kara looked over at him. “Some of the memories seem like they are from another time, another place. And some—”
Joseph turned.
“Some seem like they—” Kara licked her lips, as if afraid to continue. “Haven’t happened yet.”
Joseph looked at her for a long moment, then turned back to the mug of steaming tea. He stirred it. “How much honey do you want?”
Kara gave him a confused look. “Joseph? Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”
Joseph came over to the table. He put the tea down in front of Kara. He sat in the chair again, and sighed. “Yes, I heard.”
Kara lifted her eyebrows.
Joseph crossed his arms. “When you were awake, you mentioned something. It seemed like babble at the time, but—”
“Fangs in the east,” Kara said suddenly. “Shadow in the south.”
Joseph froze. A cold hand touched his heart.
“A fire rises in the west.” Kara stared straight ahead, as if she were seeing right through Joseph. “To find the key, to stop all three, seek the raven lost in the sea.”
The room was chillingly silent for a long moment.
Kara looked up at Joseph, meeting his eyes with hers. “I remember,” she said. “The words are burned in my brain. But I don’t know what they mean.”
Joseph allowed himself to breathe. “Neither do I.”
“I saw Kendril,” she said, looking up at the ceiling. “He was fighting all alone. There was fire, a town burning. An army of barbarians.”
Joseph gave an uneasy shrug of his shoulders. “Just a dream. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
“We need to help him, Joseph,” Kara said. She reached across the table, and cupped Joseph’s hands in her own. “I don’t know how I know, but I do. He needs us. Otherwise he’ll die.”
Joseph looked quickly away.
“Joseph,” said Kara quietly. “Where is Kendril? Why isn’t he here?”
The pathfinder chewed his lip. He couldn’t bring himself to look Kara in the eyes again. “He…left.”
“Where? Why?”
Joseph finally looked at Kara, his face hard. “I told him to go. I didn’t care where, and I still don’t.”
Kara stared at him.
Joseph pushed back the chair and got up angrily from the table. “He shot you. He could have killed you.” He leaned against the kitchen counter with both hands. “For a long time I thought he had.”
Confusion clouded Kara’s face. “You…told him to go? Oh, Joseph.”
“You don’t understand,” Joseph said heatedly. He turned around. “I almost lost you, Kara. I told him not to shoot.”
“What was he supposed to do, Joseph?” Kara weaved her fingers in and out of the tea mug’s handle. “Let Indigoru grow more and more powerful? Watch Vorten burn to the ground?”
Joseph leveled his gaze at her. “You’ve been in a coma. You almost died. And you don’t care that Kendril was the one who pulled the trigger?”
“Indigoru was in my brain,” Kara said, her voice low. “I saw what she was going to do, what she was planning. If I could have, Joseph, I would have pulled the trigger myself.”
Joseph gave an angry shake of his head. “I wasn’t ready to give up on you. There could have been another way, some way to get the Soulbinder off you—”
“Maybe there was.” Kara softened her voice. “But there was no way to know that at the time, was there? Kendril did what he had to do, Joseph. You have to forgive him for it.”
Joseph looked at the crackling fire. “Forgive him? Why?” He glanced back at Kara. “You know what Olan told me? He said that Kendril doesn’t care for anyone or anything. That he was just using us like pawns.” He looked back at the fire, his face a raging storm cloud. “Well, I think Olan was right. Kendril never cared about any of us. We were all just expendable commodities to him.”
Kara leaned back in her chair. “Joseph, listen to yourself. You can’t honestly believe that.”
Joseph whipped his head back around. “Can’t I? We’ve only ever followed him around, Kara. Since the Howling Woods, anyways. It’s always been about what Kendril wanted, what he needed to do.”
“That’s enough.” Kara looked up at Joseph with a sudden fire in her eyes. “You told me in Merewith that you thought Kendril had had a real vision, that you believed the Soulbinder was important. And it was, Joseph.” Kara took a breath, tugging again at her blanket. Her eyes retained their fierceness. “We’re in the middle of a Despair. The Seteru practically destroyed Vorten. Eru only knows where they will resurface again. Are you seriously telling me that you think Kendril only cares about himself? The man who had half his face burned off while closing the gate to the Void?”
Joseph opened his mouth for a moment, but shut it again without saying anything.
Kara slumped forward on the table again. For a long moment there was only the sound of the rain on the windows and the popping and crackling of the flames in the hearth.
Joseph sat down again across from Kara. He looked down at the table top. “I was angry,” he whispered. “Angry at Kendril for shooting you. I didn’t care about whether he should have done it or not. I was…afraid of losing you forever. And I took it out on him.”
Kara sighed. “Well, there’s some honesty.”
Joseph put his head down in his hands. “I’m sorry, Kara. I’ve been a fool.”
“It seems to me,” she said with a wheezing breath, “that I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”
Joseph looked up at her.
“We need to find him, Joseph,” Kara said.
Joseph straightened up in the chair. “Your dream, you mean?” The tiniest hint of sarcasm came through in his words.
“Yes.” Kara wrapped her fingers around the hot mug of tea. “I don’t know how I know, but Kendril’s in trouble. We have to find him, have to warn him. Or help him.”
Joseph looked away, his face clouded with hurt and anger. “You can barely walk. Now you want to go searching the world for the man who almost killed you?”
“Not the whole world,” Kara said softly. “Just one town. I saw where Kendril is.”
Joseph looked back at her in surprise. “Where?”
Kara took a sip of the tea. “A pallisaded town, with a harbor filled with logs and ships, surrounded by forest and mist. I went there once with Torin, years ago when I was still a young girl.”
Joseph took a breath. “Redemption? In Jothland?”
Kara nodded silently. The rain continued to drum against the windows.
“That’s a long ways from here,” Joseph said. “Even if you were well, even if you could travel at all, it would take more than a week for us just to get to Santaren. Archangel would take even longer, assuming the roads are safe at all. Crossing the Strait will take days as well. You’re looking at least two weeks, even if you could somehow get a coach, or if we both rode.”
“You said we,” Kara remarked.
Joseph blinked. “What?”
“Just now you said we,” she repeated. “As if both of us were going.”
Joseph looked at her for a long moment, then reached his hand across the table and put it on top of Kara’s arm. “I almost lost you once,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t intend on leaving you again.”
“Even if that means following me to Redemption?”
Joseph gave a slow nod. “Even if.”
Kara smiled. “You know, Joseph, I think that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”
The pathfinder grinned in return. “Right. Now finish that tea. You need your rest.”
Kara gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
Large puddles covered the ground, mingling with the gravel of the road. Overhead the skies were gray, ominous with the threat of yet more spring rain. The chill in the air had lessened somewhat, but the first warm blushes of summer seemed far away.
Maklavir crossed his arms and gave the pathfinder an irritated look. “It’s the best I could bloody well do, given the circumstances. We’ve got precious little money as it is, and the gendarmes are hunting for us even still. I had to call in an old favor just to get this, and then swear the man up and down to silence that he ever saw me.”
Joseph crossed to the front of the cart. He glanced skeptically at the sorry nag who was tethered to the vehicle. “Kara can’t ride in this. It’s not even covered.”
Maklavir threw up his hands in surrender. “You’ll get no argument from me. I don’t think she should be riding at all. Silvanus doesn’t seem to think so, either, even though he seems eager to have us all out of his house as soon as possible.”
Joseph grunted. He patted the nag on the side of the neck, then bent down to examine the axles.
“She’s still too weak,” Maklavir continued. He took the long way around a particularly large mud puddle, making sure his cape was well out of splatter range. “You’ve seen her. If we move her she could get worse.”
“I’m fine, Maklavir.” Kara appeared suddenly at the end of the lane. She was huddled in the same ragged blanket, and walked haltingly while leaning on a wooden cane.
Maklavir and Joseph both turned, surprised.
“Kara,” said Maklavir sheepishly, “I didn’t mean—” He pulled up to his full height. “Tuldor’s beard, girl, you shouldn’t be out of bed. You’ll catch pneumonia out here.”
“I’m not an invalid, Maklavir,” Kara said sharply. She stopped at the start of the gravel road, breathing heavily and leaning on her cane. “I’ll be shooting a longbow again before you know it.”
Joseph smiled and arched an eyebrow. “You sure about that? You look like an old woman.”
Kara plucked at the blanket over her shoulders, looked down at her cane, and laughed.
Joseph and Maklavir exchanged looks. The sound of Kara laughing was something that had been absent for far too long.
“It’s perfect,” Kara said, looking at the cart.
“Perfect?” Joseph snorted. He gave one of the wooden wheels a derisive kick. “We’ll be lucky if we get past the Vorten gendarmes. And if we do, getting over the border into Badera will be a nightmare.” He shook his head, splashing through a small puddle as he worked his way down the side of the cart. “There is a war on, you know.”
“We could go south,” Maklavir said, scratching his chin. “To Merewith.”
“That will take even longer to reach the coast,” Joseph said from behind the wagon. He stuck his head over the top again, his eyebrows furrowed in a scowl. “This whole thing is madness, if you ask me.”
“That’s what I said before,” Maklavir said icily. “How is it that no one ever listens to a word I say?”
“I’m going,” Kara said. “Even if I have to hobble the whole way to Archangel. Kendril needs us.”
“Well, he doesn’t need you for at least three more days.” Silvanus came walking down the lane, his hands stuck into the pockets of his coat. He frowned at Kara. “I told you to stay in bed, young lady.”
Kara stuck out her chin. “I felt like a walk.”
“Felt like a walk?” Silvanus repeated. “You can walk all you like back in the house. Stay out here for much longer and you’ll catch pneumonia.”
Maklavir tapped a hand to his forehead. “Seriously, I said that not two minutes ago. Does no one pay any attention to me at all?”
“Three days,” Silvanus said. He held up three fingers to further emphasize the point. “That’s how long you’ll stay in bed and under a roof, young lady.” He shook his head with a disgusted grunt. “I swear, it’s like you’re trying to get yourself killed.”
Joseph came around the cart again. “I thought you wanted us gone as soon as possible.”
“I do.” Silvanus said shortly. “But I’ll be cursed if I see this young lady die from negligence after having survived such a miraculous surgery.” He nodded back up towards the house. “Now get back inside before it starts raining.”
Kara wobbled a little, then gave a defeated nod. “I…I do feel a little dizzy.”
Maklavir stepped forward quickly, and took the woman’s arm. “Come on, Kara. I’ll help you back to the house.”
She didn’t resist. “Thank you, Maklavir.”
“Three days at least,” Silvanus repeated. “I mean it.”
“I’ll get the cart and horse around behind the house,” called Joseph. He grabbed the horse’s bridle.
“It smells like Hetty’s making us some bacon and eggs,” said Maklavir brightly. “That is if you can stomach any solid food yet, Kara.”
Silvanus shook his head stormily. “That woman of mine,” he muttered. “She’ll have them all sleeping in the master bedroom next.”
Joseph hid his smile as he pulled the horse up off the gravel path, the cart rolling along behind it.
On the flagstone path that led up to the house, Kara leaned heavily against Maklavir as the two walked slowly back towards the front door.
“All right,” she said between breaths, “I think I pushed myself a little too far.”
Maklavir caught her deftly as she started to stumble, and wrapped one strong arm around her waist to support her. “I don’t have to carry you, do I?”
Kara shook her head with a wry smile. “No. I can walk. Let’s just go slowly.”
“Well one thing certainly hasn’t changed,” Maklavir said as they moved up the path. “You’re still as stubborn as you ever were.”
“Thank you, Maklavir,” said Kara. She was trembling violently, even with the blanket around her shoulders.
They moved into the house. From the kitchen came the sound of frying grease and the smell of bacon.
Maklavir looked longingly down the hall. “I don’t suppose you want to get something to eat?” He nodded towards the door. “An egg? Some tea?”
Kara shook her head. “I’m…pretty shot. I think maybe just bed for now.”
Maklavir tried to hide his disappointment. “All right then.”
They maneuvered down the side hall and into the bedroom. Kara half crawled and half collapsed onto the bed.
“Blast it all,” she gasped. “I…can’t even walk out the front door without practically swooning.”
Maklavir snatched the comforter and pulled it up over the woman. “You’ve never been a swooner as long as I’ve known you, Kara.” His voice was light-hearted, but he felt a sudden pit of nervousness in his stomach.
“That’s right,” said Kara with more than a hint of drowsiness in her voice. She laid her head down on the pillow and looked up at Maklavir through heavy eyelids.
“Can I get you some water? Tea?” Maklavir asked hopefully.
Kara gave a small shake of her head. “No. I just need to sleep, Maklavir. I’m…worn out.”
Maklavir nodded. The smell of eggs and bacon still enticed him, but he sat down on a chair next to the bed. “You’re warm enough? I can get another blanket.”
“No thanks,” Kara murmured. Her eyes were slipping shut. “Just…sleep.”
Maklavir nodded absently. He glanced over at the wall, wringing his hands together. “Kara?”
“Hmm?” Her voice sounded distant.
“Look—” Maklavir began. He scratched his goatee nervously, keeping his face turned away from the girl. “I wanted to, well to talk to you about something. Actually, less talk to you, then to…um, tell you something rather important.” He coughed nervously, rubbing his hands on his trousers. “This may not be the best time, but I think that I need to say it. You know, get it out of my system.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “We’ve…well, we’ve known each other for quite a long time, Kara, and I guess I—” Maklavir swallowed, and stared down at the floor. “Well, I’ve come to care for you. Does that make se
nse?”
There was no answer.
Maklavir made a face. “That—no, that didn’t make sense, did it? I’m being such a fool.” He slapped both his hands lightly against his knees. “What I’m trying to say, Kara, what it’s so hard for me to—” He stopped again, then put his face into his hands with a sigh. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Kara.” He cupped his hands around the bottom of his face. “As hard as that might be to believe.”
There was silence.
“I say,” Maklavir said with a bit of pique in his voice, “don’t you have anything to—” He turned towards the bed.
Kara’s eyes were closed, her head tilted off to one side on the pillow. Her breathing was slow, deep, and even.
Maklavir smacked a thumb across his nose. “And…you’re asleep. Of course you are. Which officially makes me a complete fool.” He turned his face back to the wall with a grimace. “So I’m talking to myself. Lovely.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” came a low voice from the doorway to the bedroom.
Startled, Maklavir sat up and snapped his head around.
It was Joseph.
Chapter 19
Fog was thick on the garden and the overgrown manor lawn. It rolled in off the sea like fingers of a giant hand, creeping over the tall grass and thorn bushes.
Mkante put a hand to the damp grass, then stood back up.
“Well?” Janis said impatiently. He fingered one of the pistols tucked into his belt. “Which way?”
Mkante pointed his hand towards the back of the manor house. “There,” he said quietly. He looked at the growing patch of fog. “There are two sets of tracks.”
Hansel sneered. “Two of the blighters? No problem.” He yanked out a short barreled flintlock pistol with a strange revolving barrel set in the breech. Another was holstered at his belt. “Gives me a chance to use these.”
Mkante shook his head sadly. “You trust to your gimmicks far too much, friend.”