by J. K. Barber
“Do you see my other boot?” she asked, snapping Jared out of his reverie. Jared thought he saw the ghost of a smile on her lips, as she looked at him, but it may have just been a trick of the shadows.
Jared finally moved his eyes away from the young woman and pointed towards the metal tub. “It’s right there,” he said. She moved around to his side of the metal basin and picked up the errant boot from where it was hidden in the tub’s shadow.
“Thanks.” Sasha said, sitting on the small chest at the foot of the bed, and laced up her boots. Jared looked nervously at the fire as she finished getting ready. “Ok,” she intoned. “Let’s go.” Sasha stood, quickly pulled on a brown suede vest over her now damp shirt, and strode across the room. She paused at the door, noticing that it had been locked, slid the bolt back and opened it. Voices from the common area below rushed into the room.
Jared walked wordlessly through the door towards the stairs that led to the main room of the inn. He looked over his shoulder to watch Sasha lock the room and slip the key into the pocket of her vest. He waited at the top of the stairway, letting Sasha go first. As she passed him, the right side of her mouth lifted in a small smile. He heard the voice of his old teacher in the back of his head, “Jared, my boy, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” Jared just shook his head and followed Sasha down the stairs.
They found a small table in a corner of the common room and sat down. When the food arrived, they ate in silence. Jared spared Sasha a glance. Her downcast eyes were sad, as she slowly spooned the soup into her mouth. He felt a strong desire to help this woman. It was strange coming from him, but it also felt right. He laid a hand on Sasha’s arm to get her attention. Her green eyes met his.
“We will find your sister. I promise,” he said.
Sasha offered him a small but grateful smile and, when he said no more, went back to eating. The promise was worth it to Jared, seeing the swordswoman’s eyes brighten.
Chapter 11
A warm breeze, smelling sweetly of honeysuckle, filtered through the trees by The Great River, as the Nhyme woman called it. The river, only about five horses wide, streamed over the mossy rocks. Katya sat in a calm side pool of the clear river, letting go of all stress as the water caressed her naked body. Languidly, she rubbed away the dried blood on her arms and where she could reach on her back. Her actual bathing finally done, Katya closed her eyes and leaned back into the water. The submerged rock on which she sat seemed to form to her body as her muscles relaxed. Her mind drifted to pleasant dreams of home and dancing in the summer mountain meadows with Sasha when they were children. A tear slid down her cheek. She sat up and rocked herself softly, her head in her hands as if it hurt.
Chyla had let her soak, patiently weaving green leaves together with reeds. Nhyme women had come for Katya’s robes. One had assured Chyla they would be mended and returned before the human’s meeting with the Elder that night.
A peaceful quiet settled over the forest, as if to soothe the young sorceress. The Nhyme girl had smiled, while watching the lines of worry fade from Katya’s brow. After a time, Katya finally rose from the water.
“Have a good soak?” Chyla asked cheerfully, as she finished her last knot on the large leaf top and skirt.
“Yes, thank you, Chyla. That water is amazing,” Katya said, as she stretched out on a rock next to the Nhyme and yielded to a rare beam of sunlight. Her stomach grumbled loudly.
“Niko should have gathered some food for you by now. You must be hungry. But first, if you would permit me I can heal the rest of your wounds,” the Nhyme offered in a gentle voice. “Niko could not get to them all while you lay on your back.”
The sorceress sat up slowly and looked at the small creature in wonder.
“You know how to use magic to heal?” Katya asked.
“Of course, what else is it used for?” Chyla replied.
Katya surveyed her feet for a moment, an internal debate racing through her head. Chyla watched her carefully.
“My people use magic more offensively, shaping the elements to suit our needs,” the sorceress finally answered.
“You hurt others with your magic?” The diminutive woman asked, looking aghast.
Katya stood and searched around for her robes, suddenly self-conscious.
“We only use it against those that would harm us,” Katya replied, while finishing her search and coming up empty-handed. “Where is my robe, Chyla?”
“Oh, I sent it off to be cleaned and mended. I made this for you to wear until your robes are returned,” the Nhyme said, holding up the woven leaf top and skirt she’d made, while Katya had bathed. The Snowhaven girl frowned, but she took the garments and began to dress, tying the twine of the skirt around her bare hips.
“Thank you,” Katya spoke softly, apprehension creeping back onto her face, as she lifted the foliage top up for inspection. She was trying to figure out how to put on the foreign clothing, in addition to feeling very out of place.
“Don’t worry,” Chyla added, seeing the girl’s general concern plain on her brow, and flew up to help her get the top tied on. “You’ll have them back before your meeting with the Elder and… here are your pouches.” The Nhyme returned to the ground and pushed a set of belt pouches towards Katya’s feet, from where they had rested in the crook of two rocks. Even though the purses only held sentimental bobbles, a few gems and royals, basic survival supplies, and herbs, the task took all of the tiny girl’s strength to shove them up to the top of one of the curved stones. “They certainly are heavy.” Chyla leaned panting against a purple velvet pouch.
The sorceress’ eyes immediately brightened. She laughed nervously and said, “Thank you.” Katya looked much happier having her personal effects in her hands, any small piece of home making her all the more comfortable.
Chyla flew up to Katya’s shoulder, after the sorceress had dressed, and laid her hands softly on one of Katya’s many gashes. “May I?”
“Yes, please do what you can. They hurt terribly.”
The Nhyme girl closed her eyes and raised her head to the sky. After a few moments her hands glowed with yellow light. Chyla opened her eyes and smiled; the gash was gone, leaving behind healthy pink skin.
Katya beamed, “Wow! Could you teach me how to heal as you do?”
“If humans are able to heal… maybe. I’d have to ask for father’s blessing first, but I am guessing he would not mind. Could you teach us this offensive magic?”
“It would take some time, several years at least,” Katya answered. Chyla looked sad, a small frown on her face. “I’ll tell you what. After my family knows I am safe, perhaps I could return and teach you how to use magic the way I do.”
Chyla’s smile returned. “I would like that very much, Lady Katya.”
The Nhyme girl moved from cut to cut, healing each fully in turn. Katya remained silent while Chyla fixed her up, watching patiently over her shoulder and with great interest, noticing that with each cut the Nhyme girl looked weaker. When Chyla had closed all Katya’s wounds she sat panting on the human’s shoulder.
“Mind if I rest here while we head back to town? That took more out of me than I thought.” Katya gave her a knowing smile. She understood all too well how magic could tax the body.
“Not at all, little friend. I owe you a debt of gratitude. Many thanks.”
After returning to the Nhyme village, Katya sat chatting with Niko and Chyla long after the sun had set, while munching on a human sized meal of cheese, nuts, and berries. Despite her hunger she could not eat much of the meal; her stomach was queasy again. She still felt weak, even walking took much of her strength. The green moss that covered the ground of the village was thick and wonderful to lie upon, so she reclined on it as she talked with the Nhyme. Their tiny faces, knowing now that Katya meant them no harm, smiled down at her from their lightly swaying tree homes above, as a constant soft wind wound its way amongst the trees.
The Nhyme women sat on their porches weaving bas
kets and preparing various cheeses, which were highly valued here from what Katya had seen. The sorceress had laughed heartily with Niko, when one woman pushed her husband off their porch after he had swiped a fresh piece of a rich-colored orange cheese from her basket. He had flown away grumbling but with a smile on his face and a mouthful of his stolen treat. Watching the Nhyme go through their daily routine, just like humans did, was fascinating to Katya.
The children had come and gone again, their mothers toting them off to bed, despite cries to stay a little longer. They had seemed even more at ease with Katya in her leaf garments that were akin to their own. The children were fascinated with her stories of Snowhaven and the mountains. Niko asked endless questions about blacksmithing and horses. Her robe had been returned, somehow magically mended for there were no seams where the holes had been. It was warm and smelt of honeysuckle, which Katya inhaled deeply as she held the garment to her face. She excused herself to change back into it. While changing in the shadow of a tree, Katya looked around at all the crystals scattered throughout the village, worked into the Nhyme houses and walkways. She had noticed the pieces of crystal all over the village when she had arrived, but never guessed at their purpose. As darkness fell over the forest, the crystals began to emit soft white light. The village was enchanting in this haunting glow, and the sorceress’ mouth gaped in awe. The light reminded her of the morning sun on fresh snow.
Upon her return, the questioning began again by Niko and Chyla about the mountains and how she had gotten to Blodwood. Katya had kept all knowledge of the odd world of darkness through which she had traveled to herself, saying that she had just appeared upon the crystals with no recollection of what had transpired.
Katya was oddly relieved to see the tight-lipped Cumo and his soldiers approaching, their arrival cutting the overly inquisitive Nhyme short. Cumo bowed to Chyla, the slight blush from earlier returning to his face. Chyla curtsied, hiding her own blush behind her blond locks. Niko rolled his eyes.
“The Elder is ready to speak to you, Lady Katya,” Cumo formally stated, his words firm and commanding. “Niko and Lady Chyla, your presences are requested as well. Please follow me.”
Katya stood and followed the Head Warrior, with Chyla and Niko riding oppositely from one another on her shoulders. They shortly arrived again at the base of the massive tree in the center of the village with its great house spanning throughout the branches above, the illuminated crystals giving it the ethereal look of a dreamscape. The Elder was waiting at the base of the tree. Cumo bowed in his usual ritualistic fashion, which Katya did her best to replicate. Razorik the Elder inclined his head in return.
The Elder hugged his daughter, and they exchanged a few hushed words. A wave of concern passed over The Elder’s face for a moment, but Chyla quickly added something and the unease visible upon his brow released. The Elder kissed her on the cheek and sent her off to bed.
A Nhyme woman of extraordinary beauty flew down from around the tree, also hugging Chyla as they crossed paths. She was dressed in a gown of pale ivy. Her sky-blue eyes beamed from under a crown of white flowers and her waist length blonde hair matched Chyla’s.
“Pardon our family goodnights, Lady Katya,” The Elder smiled. “May I introduce to you my wife, Lady Amara.” Katya curtsied, and Lady Amara inclined her head much like her husband had done earlier. The sorceress knelt down on the ground, so that she would not tower over The Elder and Lady Amara.
“I have heard much of you this day, Lady Katya,” Amara said, “and I just had to see you for myself. What interesting but lovely clothing you wear,” Lady Amara smiled sweetly.
Katya returned her smile and added a softly spoken, “Thank you.”
“Head Warrior, you are dismissed for the evening. Thank you and good night,” The Elder said in a firm commanding voice. Cumo bowed and faced his soldiers, dismissing them for the night as well.
“Good night, Elder, Lady Amara, Lady Katya, Niko.” Cumo spoke before leaving, facing each individual in turn.
“Good night, Cumo,” those in attendance responded almost as one. The Head Warrior flew off into the night.
“Now, let’s get to the talking,” The Elder grinned and motioned for the four of them to sit. After all were seated and comfortable, he continued, “I know you have many questions, Lady Katya, so let’s start with one of yours. Then my wife and I will ask you and Niko our own questions. It will be like swapping stories, which we Nhyme love to do, as you may have noticed in your time in our village.”
“That is fine, my Lord Elder,” Katya responded respectfully.
“Please, just Elder,” the Nhyme leader said.
“Yes, Elder,” Katya smiled.
“What is your first question?” Razorik asked.
Katya’s thoughts turned inward for a moment, as she recalled her mental list of things she wanted to ask.
“Am I still in the world called Aronshae?” The sorceress asked.
“You are indeed, Lady Katya. However, if you asked the average Nhyme, they would not know that. We Nhyme like to keep to ourselves, and you, Lady, are one of only two visitors in the last century.” Katya’s eyes brightened, her hope renewed.
“Are we near the World’s Edge Mountains or at least still in the Illyander Kingdom?” Katya asked.
“Hold that question please, Lady Katya. It is time for us to ask you a question.” The Elder winked at the human girl.
“Yes, of course, my apologies, my L... Elder.”
“I have heard from my daughter, Chyla, that you can cast magic. I have known of very few humans in my lifetime that can shape energies. Actually, I can think of only three humans that I know who can wield magic. Well, getting to my question. Is it true that you, who are so young in human years, can cast magic?”
“It is true, Elder. My home is in the World’s Edge Mountains in a town called Snowhaven. In my town, two schools were created about a hundred or so years ago by the Illyander Kingdom, one for sorcerers and one for warriors to fight by their side. Magic is relatively easy to shape there, as the place itself is rich with energy. I have witnessed how you shape energy to heal, and, as I told Chyla, we do use magic offensively, but only in the defense of our persons and our home. Snowhaven is in the middle of the pass through the mountains and many ice orcs raid our home on a regular basis, so our skill grows with each fight. Snowhaven has become a fortress in many ways over the years, and we keep the border clearly defined between the Frozen March and Illyander.”
The Elder ran his bony hands over his bare chin. Katya was doing her best to answer fully and without adding her own questions about the Nhyme until prompted.
“Hmm, very interesting,” Razorik said. “Well, to answer your second question: Aronshae, as you call it, tends to rename itself and its features every few hundred years, so names of places I rarely know. I do know of a mountain range to the North from when I traveled almost five centuries ago. The range at that time was called the Shir-Dar Mountains.” The Elder paused, concern on his face. He changed topics. “I hate to be a bad host, but there is a reason no humans live here. We can’t feed you for more than another week, without exhausting our resources and those of our forest. That and we do not eat meat, which you humans seem to like so much. I would ask that you please depart in a few days, when you are sufficiently rested, of course. In the meantime, while you rest and heal, we’ll have a chance to speak more of our magic.”
Katya smiled. “I’d like that very much, as our uses of magic are very different. I am also happy to satisfy your request to depart. I need to return home, as soon as I am able.” Katya’s face clouded in sadness, before saying, “My mother, when I last saw her, was very ill. I know how to use certain herbs to ease her suffering, but, if I knew how to heal her like you can, I could save her from an untimely passing. She is only forty winters old.”
Lady Amara looked to her husband as if asking a silent question. He nodded his head to her.
“Lady Amara will teach you what she can in the
next few days, but, in so little time, you will not have acquired the necessary skill to heal a fatal illness, like the one of which you speak. While we could teach you enough to accelerate the natural healing process, you would need a Nhyme healer to cure your mother completely.”
Niko hopped up from where he had been dozing, saying, “Oh oh me, me, me please, please. I want to help.”
The Elder looked surprised for a few moments but soon laughed nodding in agreement.
“If you will allow it, Lady Katya,” Razorik said, “Niko will travel with you. He has always had a wanderlust and has had issues keeping to himself. It has often kept him from his studies.” The Elder cocked his eyebrow at Niko but then grinned broadly. “I myself was quite the adventurer in my time.” Lady Amara patted the Elder’s hand, a silent reminder of his duties in Blodwood, which sobered his expression. “But, I have responsibilities now to my people.”
“I would be honored to have Niko as a traveling companion,” Katya stated.
“Whooopeee!” Niko danced about and kissed Katya on the cheek, excitement plain on his gleeful face. The girl laughed and ruffled Niko’s already messy hair with her finger.
“Would you like me to teach you how to shape magic my way, in exchange for teaching me to heal?” Katya asked.
“Sweet child, I know you mean well, but Nhyme are different creatures than you. We are not a fighting sort of race. To teach my people how to hurt one another or even an enemy, of which we have few, would be against all we believe in. Cumo and his militaristic men really are just for show. Order and routine, in moderation, never hurt anyone, and armed with those traits they do maintain our secret existence here by patrolling the borders and driving away any riff raff that may wander near. I have great faith that he would put up a fight if I asked him to, but it is not our way.”
“But what if you were attacked? Would you allow yourselves to be destroyed?” Katya asked, her face open-eyed with shock.