First of Tomes (The Tomes of Kaleria Book 2)

by Honor Raconteur

  Jones only looked partially mollified by this. “Should I keep the docks entirely clear tomorrow?”

  “Just in case. If you would.” Mei Li cracked her neck to either side, feeling the tension in her muscles. Great magic, but this would take days. It was just as well they’d start tomorrow, too, as her magic wasn’t up to it today. She felt only the dredges of magical energy at her core.

  “Then I’ll spread the word.” Jones ducked his head at them before striding off, voice lifted as he called out to a pocket of men nearby.

  Mei Li rather wanted to return to the inn but didn’t want to miss Shunlei, who would return here looking for her. She assumed. Not wanting to put the time to waste, she offered, “I can apply a few safeguards here in preparation for tomorrow?”

  Wearily, Kiyo bobbed her head in agreement. “Do that. We’ll go survey the other burned section of town and see what else they need restored.”

  Since they now knew what to look for, Mei Li left them to it.

  There were some anti-fire talismans in her bag, which she used sparingly along the unburned sections of the docks. Just in case that dragon’s fire did get away from them. She was at it perhaps an hour or so and was frankly running out of things to do when Shunlei reappeared.

  In his hands were three boxes and a wrapped bundle on top. Mei Li stopped messing with the talisman and straightened, crossing the distance to meet him halfway. At this hour, the sun was setting and few people were left on the docks. She was glad he was back so quickly. The ocean breeze had a nip to it, and she was more than ready to retreat into the inn.

  “How much did you find?” she asked by way of greeting.

  “Three boxes, one half-full,” he answered, setting them down carefully on the nearest flat surface—in this case, an unopened crate. “But first, this.”

  Mei Li accepted the bundle he handed her with absolutely no expectation of what was inside. It felt soft, like cloth, but she didn’t know what to think of it. Or the expression on his face.

  “It’s hard catching you alone.” There was a wry upturn of his mouth, but his blue eyes spoke of caution. “I’d prefer a better setting for this, but needs must. Will you accept this, Mei?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what, but she didn’t voice it. Mei Li didn’t know what to make of his expression. It was neutral in a way—strangely so—but more as a mask that covered a much deeper emotion he wasn’t willing to reveal just yet. Mei Li wanted to puzzle it out, but she had a feeling she could study that face for hours and not figure it out. Instead, she untied the plain black cloth and flicked it open on all four sides with a quick snap of her wrist. What lay in the middle, folded neatly, was a shimmering red veil. It was exquisitely done, the edges of it embroidered with yellow thread in a scrollwork pattern.

  It was a bride’s veil.

  Mei Li’s breath seized in her lungs, and she could only stare at the veil. What…was…no, she knew what it was. In a traditional courtship of this day, especially this era, a courting couple would exchange parts of a wedding outfit on a regular basis. They would give each other each piece of it, and when the full outfit was assembled, the courtship was considered complete and they were engaged.

  So, she knew what this was. What she didn’t understand was why.

  Her lungs burned, reminding her to draw in air, and she sucked in a large breath, eyes still glued to the veil. Thoughts whirled and clashed in her head without any resolution of how to feel about this. For a moment, she felt weightless, as if her mind had separated from her body, leaving her in an exhilarating free fall before other emotions yanked her sharply back down. Surprise won, knocking everything else aside. Words seemed to escape her utterly. “S-Shunlei—”

  “I’ve surprised you,” he said, resigned. “I had a feeling. I courted you as a dragon would another, but the way you responded, it became clear to me you didn’t understand what I was doing. Or did you?”

  She shook her head frantically from side to side, because no, she had not picked up on that at all.

  “I asked Hawes how humans would court, and he explained the customs. They sold bridal veils in the last town we stayed, so I picked it up there. I hadn’t found the right moment to give it to you. I finally decided the right moment wasn’t going to come magically along. I chose to just make a moment.” Shunlei ducked his head an inch, still studying her cautiously. “Mei? Do you agree?”

  Mei Li blurted without thinking, “You can’t choose me! Our timelines don’t match!”

  This did not impact him as she expected it to. Instead he smiled at her a little sadly. “I know. But I’ve already considered that. I’ll take whatever time with you I can claim.”

  He didn’t understand. Worse, she couldn’t fully explain it to him. He thought she meant that she would leave him widowed well before his time—which was certainly true—but…oh great dark magic take everything. How did she explain? To both him and her? Because for a wild, exhilarated moment, she’d been truly happy to see that veil.

  Tears burned in her eyes, blinding her, and she found herself clutching the veil to her chest without meaning to. Shaking her head over and over, she protested around a constricted throat, “I can’t. I’ll break your heart. I can’t.”

  Shunlei reached for her, a gentle expression on his face. “Mei—”

  She couldn’t even see him through the tears now. Frustrated, heart aching, she pivoted sharply on her heel and ran. Which was cowardly, but she didn’t know what to say to him, to convince him how poor of a decision this was. She was perilously close to saying something she shouldn’t.

  Mei Li dashed angry tears from her eyes, cursing her past self for a naïve idiot. She should have never, ever spoken that thrice-cursed time travel spell. Now look where it had landed her.

  She was an utter fool.

  Mei Li squirreled herself up in her room, the veil laying on the bed in front of her. With both arms wrapped around her legs, she hunkered there, glaring at the veil. She felt, in that moment, immensely frustrated. And fragile, as if one soft puff of air would shatter her heart and send it in all directions.

  It took far longer than it should have to calm down enough to really think. Her emotions kept derailing her utterly before she could focus. The light outside the window disappeared entirely, leaving her in starlit gloom. Still, she didn’t change her position. She felt instinctively that she was on the cusp of understanding something, if only she was calm and still enough for that realization to come.

  With a deep breath in, she parsed it out slowly. Breathe in through the nostrils, out through the mouth. She still felt tenderized by emotions, but she could think now. She could put this out logically and look it over from all sides.

  Maybe.

  Alright, start from the beginning. She had to first consider not present Shunlei, but future. Future Shunlei must have known his younger self would fall in love with her. He’d remembered precisely where they met, for mercy’s sakes—of course he’d remember how he’d felt for her.

  Future Shunlei had given her instructions of precisely where to go to meet him. Words of caution, some advice, but nothing of a personal nature. No, she couldn’t say that. Those last five words had been very personal, spoken in a husky, longing way from his heart.

  Be safe. Return to me.

  At the time, she’d been so focused on getting changed, activating the spell, going before she could be caught. She hadn’t really focused on him or considered fully what he meant by that. Mei Li had assumed he meant a general well-wishing. For her to safely return to him again in the future.

  But what if he hadn’t meant it in a general sense?

  Suspicions roused, Mei Li stared at the veil again with wide eyes. “No, surely not…”

  Closing her eyes, she truly focused. Had he ever said his wife’s name? Had any record made mention of it? She couldn’t recall a single instance where the human bride Shunlei married and cherished had her name recorded. And that was extremely odd, now that she though
t about it. She was the love of Shunlei’s life, and yet no one alive knew her name? No record existed about her? Why would that be?

  Unless it was deliberately erased for some reason… Mei Li wasn’t suspicious by nature, but she could feel her suspicions rising. She knew for a fact that the time travel spell would alter things so no record would remain of her in the past. Even with taking precautions, Mei Li was bound to make mistakes. She’d actually been quite relieved knowing that if she did some minor slip up, the spell would nix the error later. But right now, that clause in the spell only fueled this train of thought.

  Was she Shunlei’s bride?

  It seemed absurd on the surface. Mei Li had never once thought that. True, Shunlei’s automatic acceptance of her in the future had always been a little strange, as well as his knowledge of all her quirks, habits, and sizes. But them being friends and teammates for ten years would explain much of that—Mei Li had assumed she knew the answer.

  But maybe she’d made an assumption she shouldn’t have.

  Or was it an assumption? The records from this era were spotty, incomplete. It was understandable that records five thousand years old would be that way. So perhaps his wife’s name had been recorded down, and it just hadn’t survived into the future.

  That seemed entirely plausible. The only reason she doubted it was because she knew the names of everyone else on the team. Why was only her name not committed?

  The more she thought of this, the more suspicious it became.

  Unable to come up with an answer, she set that query aside for a moment. Mei Li wouldn’t be able to prove it one way or another until she returned to the future, and Shunlei’s proposal could hardly hang in limbo for ten years. She needed an answer now.

  How did she respond?

  Mei Li could freely admit she adored Shunlei. She trusted him, considered him one of the best friends she’d ever had, and given a choice, it would always be him she chose to have at her side. Was she in love with him? She hadn’t the faintest clue.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Lady Mei?”

  Hawes. Mei Li lifted her head and stared at the door, not sure if she wanted company at the moment or not. Grudgingly, she called out, “Come in.”

  He did so, head first, peeking around the door. Then upon seeing her sitting in the dark, he ducked out again, just for a moment. He next appeared with a lantern, which he sat on the table next to the bed. Mei Li shifted her legs and veil up and to the side, giving him room to sit on the mattress. He wore a kind, sympathetic half-smile as he regarded her.

  “I take it you really didn’t know he felt this way toward you?”

  Mei Li shook her head back and forth wordlessly.

  “You don’t wish for it?”

  Did she? Didn’t she? There were so many other thoughts and emotions complicating the question, she had no ready answer for that. “Did you know dragons can live for thousands of years?”

  Hawes blinked at her, head jerking back an inch. “Can they really?”

  “They age so incredibly slowly, you see. The Red stage Shunlei is in now makes him barely an adult. Like a teenager just turning eighteen for us. Even as reckless as he is, he will likely live for many thousands of years.” Desperate now for advice, she explained more earnestly. “Dragons also mate for life. Even if they lose a mate, it’s almost unheard of for them to take another. Do you see?”

  “You’re afraid of what will happen to him if you accept him.” Hawes sank back with a sigh, expression filled with understanding.

  “I’ll leave him alone. Heartbroken. For centuries. Probably even longer. In the heat of the moment he can look at that possibility and say it will be fine. That he’s braced for it. But can I really do that to him?” And Future Shunlei really should have given her a hint one way or another, curse him. She’d smack him for this as soon as she was back in the future.

  Hawes pursed his lips and didn’t immediately answer. “What it sounds like to me is that you want to accept him. That if not for that reason, you would.”

  Mei Li opened her mouth on a hot protest that died in a croak. Was he right?

  “Lady Mei, say what you’d like, but he is a grown man. He knows all of this as well as you do. Still, he chooses you. You can’t make a decision based on fear. That only leads to heartbreak.”

  Wise counsel, but did she heed it? Mei Li couldn’t paint the full picture for him. If he knew everything she knew, would he still say the same? Or would that still be making a fear-based decision? She had a feeling it was.

  “You don’t have to make a decision tonight,” Hawes soothed. “In fact, I encourage you to sleep on this.”

  “I will.” Biting her bottom lip, she looked up at him hesitantly. “How is Shunlei? I sort of…ran.”

  “I think he more or less expected that reaction. He’s being remarkably patient and only told me what happened. He said it was only fair for you to have such doubts, as he wrestled with the same. I thought he meant differences between human and dragon, but I suppose he meant the difference in aging as well.”

  That was true. Shunlei’d had time to really think about this, hadn’t he? Of course he’d understand her knee jerk reaction—he’d no doubt gone through the same thing. Or at least a similar feeling.

  With a pat on her hand, Hawes left the bed, heading for the door. “I’ll leave you the lantern. Come down for dinner. Starving your belly won’t solve issues of the heart.”

  As if on cue, her stomach rumbled petulantly. She glared downward. Really? Here she was in an emotional crisis, and her body could only focus on food? “Bodies are such inconvenient things.”

  “They can be.” Hawes turned at the door, studying her expression carefully. “You can work tomorrow?”

  “More like, I need to work tomorrow,” she sighed, dragging herself off the bed. “I can’t afford to sit and stew about this.”

  “Well enough.”

  Shunlei, demonstrating the sort of maturity she expected from Future Shunlei, didn’t say a peep to her over breakfast or plague her for an answer. He looked her over, no doubt noting the dark circles under her eyes, but only silently offered her a cup of hot tea. It was just as well. Mei Li had spent most of the night tossing and turning, only getting snatches of rest. If he’d tried to say anything to her, she might have bitten his head off.

  Kiyo seemed to pick up on it. She kept eyeing Mei Li sideways as they made their way to the docks. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Mei Li realized Nord was not with them. “Nord?”

  “You are out of it,” Kiyo stated, eyebrows arched in a way that construed…what? “Nord went to repair the burned ship enough that they could move it.”

  “Oh.” Mei Li hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation over breakfast. Apparently, she’d missed a few vital things.

  “Just what is going on?” Kiyo dragged her to a halt next to the road, fortunately out of the way of traffic. People scurried back and forth, clearing out the burned and charred remains, kicking up ash in the process. Mei Li put her back to the ocean breeze to help keep the ash from flying into her face.

  Rubbing a hand over her mouth, Mei Li debated not saying anything. But, well, they were a small group. People would figure this out sooner or later. Kiyo had already picked up on the tension, even if she didn’t understand the cause. “Shunlei’s proposed courtship with me.”

  Kiyo’s jaw dropped for a split second and then gave an exaggerated sound of understanding. “Ahh, of course. Of course, he did.”

  Folding her arms over her chest, Mei Li glared at her. “What do you mean ‘of course?’”

  “This is the first time since I met the two of you that he’s not somewhere nearby.” Kiyo gave her an arch look of challenge. “Usually he’s more faithful than your shadow. And you really mean to tell me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you when your back is turned?”

  “Oddly enough, when a person’s back is turned, we tend to not be able to see things happening behind us,” Mei Li grumb
led, growing more irritated by the second. Why did Kiyo have to act so matter-of-fact about this when it wasn’t at all obvious?

  Not at all deterred, Kiyo shrugged. “You said yes, I trust?”

  “I didn’t say anything.” Mei Li was done with this conversation. She marched once again for the docks, and nearly got her foot run over by a passing wagon in the process. Swearing, she stopped short, waiting for it to fully pass.

  Kiyo caught up with her in a split second. “What do you mean, you didn’t say anything?”

  “I mean, I don’t know how to answer him, and I didn’t say anything.” Mei Li now regretted saying anything from the dark cockles of her soul. She should have let her wonder.

  Doggedly, Kiyo lengthened her stride to stay in pace with her, weaving her way around a dockman carrying a box on his shoulder. “But you love him too! Don’t pretend otherwise, you can’t miss it.”

  “You can love someone and not be in love with them, Kiyo,” Mei Li gritted out. She eyed the ocean longingly, sorely tempted to jump into it. Would Kiyo follow her even there to continue the argument? Was it worth being doused in seawater to escape? Mei Li still had nightmares about being brutally thrown into the ocean and truthfully, she never wanted to be in it again for as long as she lived. But right now, it actually did look inviting.

  “You’re really not in love with him?” Kiyo asked this as if she’d suggested chopping off a limb.

  Mei Li closed her eyes and asked all the spirits and gods for strength. It did not come. “I. Do. Not. Know. I’ve never—How am I supposed to—What if he—Can we please focus on the thrice-cursed docks now?”

  Kiyo gave her that look again, like a parent indulging a slow-witted child. Which grated. Mei Li wanted to smack her in the face for it. “Sure. We’ll focus on the docks. Oh look, there’s a box of chalk right here waiting on us. The chalk that Shunlei thoughtfully went to find last night. Sweet of him, wasn’t it?”

  Why had Mei Li’s ancestors given her a tongue…?

  She didn’t trust her mouth not to say something she might later regret. Wordlessly, she snatched up two sticks of chalk instead and stalked toward the dock. Work first. Work, and she’d set everything else aside.