"How is this possible? How are you here?"
Her dad laughed. "Come. I'll explain it all. Over some good food."
He always had liked his food, even the simple fare they usually ate.
They walked down the yellow-tiled path, her father with one arm thrown casually around her shoulders, talking the whole time about how wonderful she looked and how she'd have to tell him everything he'd missed since he'd been gone.
He led her to a clearing with a small fire pit and a pair of baru-hide camp stools set around it. A blanket next to the stools was covered with an assortment of her favorite foods—most from the tribes, but some from her time in the Daliphana, too—grilled baru, fresh apples, figs stuffed with goat cheese and drizzled in honey.
Her father sat down. "Eat. I'm sure you're hungry."
She glanced back down the path. Where was Badru? She'd completely forgotten about him in the thrill of seeing her father. "Dad. I…Where are my friends?"
"With their loved ones. Getting some well-deserved food and rest, just like you. Now, come. Eat. I'll explain everything."
"But why couldn't we stay together?" She chewed on her lip, torn between her desire to spend time with her father and her worry for the others.
He smiled. "Because the dead are selfish. We each wanted time alone with our loved ones. Is that such a bad thing? We have so much to catch up on and no one else will want to hear it. Don't worry." He patted the stool next to him. "There will be time later for your friends. I'd like to meet the young man who's captured my daughter's heart. But later. After we've had a chance to talk. I've missed you, K'lrsa. Haven’t you missed me?"
"Of course!"
"Then sit and spend a little time with your father, would you?"
She glanced down the path once more. Her father was right. It was just a meal. And she might never have this chance again. She could find the others after.
She lowered herself to the camp stool, looking around at the tall trees and dense bushes, so different from the plains and deserts of home. "What is this place?"
"A sanctuary. A place to revive and recover after the ordeal of the labyrinth." He cut an apple and offered her half.
She took it, delighting in its crunchy tang, something she'd never experienced before she went to the Daliphana. "I can't stay long, you know." She forced the words out even though they were the last words she wanted to say. "The tribes need me. The Black Horse Tribe and the Daliph's men have them trapped in the gathering grounds."
"You have more time than you think. Time flows differently here than it does out there. Hadn't you noticed?"
She nodded. "But I still don't understand. I thought when I reached the center of the labyrinth I'd receive knowledge. Or a weapon. Or knowledge that is a weapon."
He laughed. "Patience. I know it was never your strength, but don't spurn this gift the gods have given us."
She grimaced. "The gods. I'm not very impressed with them right now. That dragon didn't deserve its fate."
"It wasn't real."
"It seemed real enough. And real or not, I'll carry that death with me forever."
He nodded. "But you understand the gods can't just give knowledge to anyone who wants it."
"Why not? Why can't we all know what they have to teach?"
He fixed her with an admonishing look so familiar it almost hurt. "K'lrsa. Think. What would a man like Aran do with the knowledge to create a weapon so powerful it would let one man destroy an army?"
K'lrsa shook her head. "But I don't understand how killing a dragon somehow separates me from him. You'd think a man like that would be more than willing to do it to reach his ends."
Her father shrugged. "I don't know. Ask the gods."
"I want nothing more to do with them."
He laughed. "Ah, my impetuous, opinionated daughter. How about we play a game of tiles and leave the discussion of gods and worthiness for another time?"
K'lrsa shook her head. She wanted more than anything to play a game of tiles and pretend her father was still alive, but she needed answers to at least a few questions first. "How are you here? How is this possible?"
"I told you. The Hidden City is a waypoint between the real world and the Promised Plains. Here alone, the dead and the living can come together as equals."
"Has it always been that way?"'
He nodded. "Ever since it was created."
"How come no one knows that? If I'd known…If Mom had known…"
He smiled. "If you'd known you would've ridden Fallion straight here after I died. Same with your mother."
"Exactly!"
"And what would that have accomplished?"
She blinked. "I don’t know. Why does it have to accomplish anything? I could've seen you again. Said goodbye. Said I was sorry I didn't find you sooner."
He squeezed her hand. "You had nothing to apologize for, K'lrsa. And I'm glad you didn't know you could come here. This place is dangerous for the living."
"Why?"
"Because the desire to live here with someone they love is often stronger than the desire to move forward alone. If you'd come here right after I died, with no other purpose or love to drive you forward, would you have been able to leave?"
She stared at him, wondering if she was strong enough to do so now.
He squeezed her hand again, grimacing as if he could read her thoughts. "Enough of this. Tell me everything that's happened since that day. How did you meet that young man? And who were the others who came with you?"
She knew she should press him for more answers, but the temptation to spend a simple meal with him talking about her life just like they used to was too strong.
So she told him about the vision from Father Sun and how she'd almost killed herself trying to find the trading caravan and how he'd been right that the Black Horse Tribe was trading in slaves and how horrible G'van had treated her and about taking Vedhe's place and meeting Lodie and helping them escape and…
Before she knew it the food was all gone and she couldn't stop yawning. It was dark. The sound of night insects filled the air.
It was still pleasantly warm. Perfectly warm. And they didn't need the fire; she could still see her father just fine.
"What is this place? Where did the food come from? How can I see you so easily even though it's dark?"
He shrugged. "It's best not to question how things happen here, but just accept that they do. The laws of the gods are different from the laws of men."
She tilted her head to the side, studying him. Her father had always been the type to want answers, to push for the truth no matter what. Why not now?
She yawned again, fighting an intense desire to curl up right there on the ground and sleep for a bit.
He smiled affectionately. "You should get some rest. And maybe clean up a bit as well." He wrinkled his nose and she laughed.
He pointed to a nearby white-tiled path. "Follow the path. You'll find a place to sleep and bathe."
He stood.
She fought the urge to clutch at him, afraid that if he walked away she'd never see him again. "Where are you going?"
He mussed her hair. "Don't worry. I'll be back in the morning."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He smiled down at her and K'lrsa felt such a surge of love that she almost cried knowing she'd never find someone who loved her like that again.
"Go, K'lrsa. I'll be here waiting for you in the morning."
Reluctantly, K'lrsa made her way down the path he'd indicated, turning back every few steps to make sure he was still there. He waited patiently, waving to her every time she turned around until the path curved and she found herself in a small clearing with two tents and a small stone structure.
Inside the middle tent was a sleeping pallet with a fresh pair of hunting leathers folded on top. The second tent was smaller and when she pulled back the flap a burst of hot air slapped her face. A sweat tent. She could barely make out the bucket of water and ladle waiting inside through
the steam.
But, even though she knew she did need to clean up some, she didn't want to be that hot, not on such a perfect night.
She turned to the stone structure.
Inside was a large bath like she'd used in Toreem, already full of water the perfect temperature, with lavender and rose petals floating on top, deep enough to cover her all the way to her chin.
Next to the tub was a bucket with water and a ladle for her to sluice off the worst of the grime before she climbed in.
She stripped out of her dirty, sweaty hunting leathers—grimacing at how stiff they were from the last few weeks of use when they'd been so beautiful once.
It took her a bit to wash off the dirt of travel before she could climb into the tub, but when she did at last she closed her eyes in bliss.
Wouldn't Mistress Hawthorne be so proud of her now? A proper woman taking a proper bath.
She leaned back, breathing in the soothing scents of lavender and rose, feeling the oils in the water soak into her skin.
She should seek out the others. Make plans for their return to the tribes.
Tomorrow.
They all needed to sleep, didn't they? Recover a bit before they raced back. And they all deserved a chance to see their loved ones. To spend some real quality time with them while they could.
One more meal with her father. That's all she wanted.
Then she'd go back to doing what everyone else wanted her to do.
Chapter 74
K'lrsa awoke to the sounds of birds singing nearby just as happy as she was. She didn't know what kind of birds they were, because they certainly weren't ones she knew, but she liked their song nonetheless.
As she pulled on her new hunting leathers, she wondered once again what this place was. It couldn't be real. Not this far into the desert. But it felt real.
She stretched, luxuriating in the feel of a clean, well-rested body.
Outside, a light breeze brought the smell of meat cooking. She walked down the path, whistling to herself, anticipating more time spent with her father.
She'd only slept a night, but she felt as if she'd slept a lifetime.
He was fixing breakfast over a small fire, humming to himself as he stirred a bowl of millet and flipped a few strips of baru.
She soaked in the sight of him, trying to memorize every single line. All these nights since he'd died she'd never quite managed to picture his face. How had she forgotten those smile lines around his eyes or that small sun mark on his left cheek?
He caught sight of her and smiled. "About time you woke up."
She felt a surge of joy as she walked forward. It was so good to have him back.
She knew she couldn't stay forever. She had to save the tribes. But maybe just one more day…
She felt her heart break and reform and break again thinking about losing him again.
She could always come back. After.
She hugged him, afraid he might disappear at any moment.
He hugged her back, laughing softly. "Now, now. Enough of that. Have a seat, take some food, and pick up with your story again. I believe you'd just reached Crossroads?"
She took the food he offered. It was simple fare, food she'd had so many times before she barely stopped to think about it, but it was the best meal in the world. Because her father had cooked it and she was sharing it with him.
She looked around. "Is everyone from the tribes here? If so, why didn't I see anyone I knew when we were walking towards the labyrinth?" All those people on the streets talking, all strangers. They must be dead, too."
"Not many stay in the city. Most move on." He smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth deepening. "The Promised Plains are real, K'lrsa, and much prettier than this place. They're just on the other side of the city."
She laughed as she took a bite of millet. "No they aren't. I saw what was on the other side of the city before we came here. Just more sand."
"Not if you travel through the city first. If you do that, you'll find lush, rolling meadows full of green grass and plenty of water and as much food as you could ever want."
"Then why aren't you there?"
He grimaced. "I couldn't cross over yet."
"Why?"
"Well, first, I was too tied to someone still alive. When that happens you have to wait for them or wait until enough time passes and the tie between you breaks."
"Who?" She asked even though she already knew the answer. Just in case, maybe…
"Your mother, of course."
"Right. Of course. She's here now isn't she?"
She pushed at her food. She'd always known how much her parents loved each other, how deep their bond was. She shouldn't be surprised.
But she was disappointed.
Just a little.
That it hadn't been his love of her that had held him back. It seemed her mother had been right about that, too. The love between a man and a woman was something stronger than the love between a parent and a child.
She wondered how long it would take for her to form that kind of bond with Badru. Surely it was something built between two people over a lifetime not something that should already be there. But she wished…
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"With Mom…Did you feel that right away? Were you always each other's everything?"
He smiled, his eyes looking somewhere else. "I knew your mother was the one for me the day I met her. Ah, you should've seen your mother when she was still a Rider. She was something to behold." He shook away the memory. "But the bond we have now? No. That we built together. The seeds of it were there from the beginning, but it was like a sapling. It needed time to put its roots down and grow into something that would last. Why?"
She shrugged. "I just…I see what you have or had or whatever and I look at Badru and I wonder why we don't have that yet."
He laughed. "K'lrsa. How long have you known this boy? And how much time have you had together to actually build this connection?"
"I know. I just…The gods put us together."
"And what do the gods know of human love? Maybe they saw that you two were right for one another, but you're the ones that have to take the promise the gods gave you and turn it into something real."
She nodded. "I guess I just wish it were easier than that."
"Ah, K'lrsa. Love's the hardest thing there is. Walking away is so much easier. So much simpler." He leaned forward. "But don't you ever forget…Love is the best thing there is. It's what makes all the other trials worth it."
She didn't want to argue with him, so she changed the subject. "Do people stay here forever? In the Hidden City? Or in the Promised Plains?"
"No. Eventually we all let go."
"Let go. What do you mean?"
"It's the same with the dead as with the living, K'lrsa. We only continue on for as long as we have the will to do so. Some pass right on to whatever's beyond this. Some cling to whatever they can for as long as they can."
"Why would anyone let go not knowing what's beyond this?"
He smiled. "Ah, the certainty of youth. Life is about change, about growth and exploration. Death is…not. We don't age here, we can't have children, we can't build anything. We just…exist. Most who come here hold on for a year or two until they lose the fear of moving on and the longing for what they left behind. It's rare to last longer than that although it does happen."
"You won't let go, though, will you? You'll wait until I come back? I'll bring M'lara and D'lan. They deserve the chance to say goodbye to you, too."
He winced. "It would be better if you spent the time with me now."
"Oh."
She wondered how much longer she could stay before it was too late to save the tribes. If he had to, Fallion could fly at night and walk during the day.
That would give her at least one more day to spend with him.
And he'd said time flowed differently here. Maybe she could take two days. Or even three.
Her fathe
r pulled a small baru-hide bag from his belt. "What do you say to a game of tiles? If I recall, you almost beat me last time."
"Okay."
She knew she should leave, but she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could. It was selfish and horrible, but he was her father and she was never going to get this chance again.
When he died, she hadn't known she was going to lose him. She hadn't known it was their last meal together or their last game of tiles.
Now she did.
Now she could store away every detail for later—his laugh, his smile, the way he looked at her with such pride and affection but still tried as hard as he could to win.
It was just one more day. The world could survive without her for that long.
Couldn't it?
Chapter 75
The next morning, when her father smiled at her across the fire and asked if she'd like to play another game of tiles, she said yes.
It was just one more day.
And did the tribes really need her to save them? What if she'd died in Toreem? What would they have done then?
Not like she was the only possible person who could change their fates.
They'd find a way through without her.
And she wasn't going to stay forever. Just one more day.
Maybe two.
That was all.
She'd just beaten her father at tiles for the third time in a row—a record—when Badru stumbled into the clearing. He was clean and wearing new clothes, but the clothes were torn and he looked like he hadn't slept for at least a day.
"Badru! What are you doing here?" She sprang to her feet, stepping between him and her father, suddenly wary.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. Come on. We have to go." He grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards the path.
"Wait. What are you doing? Let go of me." She tried to pull free, but he wouldn't let her. "Badru. Stop."
Her father was suddenly there, wrestling her free, and shoving Badru to the ground. "Let go of her." His voice was flat and cold in a way she'd never heard before.
Badru scrambled to his feet, his belt knife in his hand. Her father pulled his own knife.
Rider's Rescue (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 2) Page 23