“Where is the brother?” Lyuc asked.
“He needed some time to think.”
Lyuc gazed past Girik’s shoulders and frowned.
“He wasn’t going to do it, you know,” Girik felt compelled to add.
An arched brow was the only reply the wizard gave, and Girik shifted uncomfortably. After swallowing, he said, “That really wasn’t you who called the wind?”
“It wasn’t me.”
Bayor nudged Yan’s hand until the man scratched his scruffy head, and Girik shifted a little closer to Yan too.
Lyuc stepped down from the wagon and moved to the front, where he began to inspect the leather harness. “So you’ll go wherever Brother Tasnerek goes, but do you know where that is?” he asked without turning from his task.
“Not yet. He’s thinking.”
“Perhaps you could find a bit of a safe haven for the winter with your people,” the wizard murmured casually.
There was a strange note in the way the wizard said “your people” that made Girik nervous. Frowning, he edged a little closer to Lyuc. “If it isn’t safe to stay here even one more night, it certainly isn’t safe to return to the village.”
“I wasn’t talking about the village.”
Girik cast a questioning look at Yan, but Yan only shook his head and shrugged.
“The only ‘people’ I have is my mother, and she’s in the village.”
“Your father?” Lyuc asked, still not looking at him.
“I don’t know him.”
Lyuc looked up at that. His silver-and-ginger-speckled brows drew together. “But your family mark.”
Girik glanced at his wrist before frowning right back at the wizard. “What of it? It’s my mother’s family, but I’ve never met any of them. I don’t know what part of Rassa they’re from.”
“Because they aren’t from Rassa,” Lyuc said, finally walking away from his inspection and closing the distance between them. “Your mother didn’t tell you this?”
Heat rose to Girik’s face as he squared his shoulders and glared at the man. He wouldn’t let anyone say anything against his mother, god or not.
Seemingly ignoring Girik’s change in attitude, Lyuc continued, “Is she tall like you?”
“No.”
“Have you ever met any Rassan as big as you are? With light coloring like yours?”
“My mother is fair.”
“But most Rassans are dark and somewhat squat… your rangy brother notwithstanding. Did it not seem odd to you that you’ve never met anyone like you?”
Girik folded his arms across his chest and frowned at the man.
“Lyuc,” Yan murmured in that lightly chastising tone he seemed to use often with his companion. “Why don’t you just tell Girik what you’re thinking. This has been a stressful few days for all of us.”
If the man hadn’t been an incredibly powerful wizard, possibly even a god, Girik would have sworn Lyuc pouted.
“Fine,” Lyuc replied with a sigh. “The mark on your wrist—at least in part—is from one of the mountain clans. I will admit, the vine pattern amongst the posts threw me a little, but I’ll have to assume they are part of your mother’s family mark that the artist simply blended with the clan mark rather than placing the new mark higher on her wrist, as is traditional. I would have assumed she would have told you all of this.”
For a few seconds, Girik just blinked at the man. He probably looked as dim-witted as everyone always assumed he was, but he had no idea how he was supposed to respond. He wasn’t Tas. He couldn’t call the man a liar to his face. But surely his mother would have told him.
“You’re trying to tell me I’m half barbarian raider?” he finally managed.
Lyuc rolled his eyes. “Who the barbarian is all depends on your point of view. I’m sure they don’t see themselves that way. But in any case, did the description of these barbarians not ring any bells?”
Girik gave the man what any ordinary person would have found a quelling look, but Lyuc only stared back at him with a bland expression and a raised eyebrow. “The raiders haven’t come down from the mountains in decades, long before my time… not since Brother Sephan the Great beat them back, at least that’s what the tales say. So no, nothing in the story rang any bells.” He paused and frowned. “Come to think of it, my mama never liked that story, so I didn’t hear it often.”
“Well, now I suppose you can understand why she didn’t like it.”
Bryn arrived in a great flap of black wings while Girik was still reeling. Without even a moment’s hesitation, Lyuc simply walked away to greet her. Girik had no idea what they talked about after Bryn landed and shifted into her female form again, and he was too distracted to care.
The wizard had to be wrong. His mama never would have kept something like this from him, would she? And now he couldn’t go back to the village to ask her. There was no window he could fit through in his mother’s room. He couldn’t sneak through the house without one of Elderwoman Shaum’s immense brood noticing.
“Girik?” Yan said softly.
He lifted distraught eyes to Yan, and Yan’s expression softened in sympathy. “I’m sorry. Lyuc can be a bit blunt. He doesn’t mean to hurt people. But after living a thousand years, he doesn’t see things quite the same as the rest of us do. I can promise you he believes what he’s saying. He isn’t lying to you. He might be wrong. He is capable of that, believe me. But he isn’t lying.”
Bayor moved to his side, somehow sensing his distress as he always did, and Girik scratched the hound’s head to comfort both of them. “But he could be wrong,” Girik repeated.
“Yes.” Yan sighed, and his cute little face pinched in apology. “But he wouldn’t have bothered to mention it if he wasn’t fairly certain. Would it be so bad, having a father from the mountain clans? I mean, I’ve heard most Rassans are quite proud and devoted to their homeland, but you haven’t seemed particularly pained by the thought of leaving here.”
“I don’t want to leave my mama, but she doesn’t want me to stay. Other than that, no, leaving this village and Rassa to follow Tas won’t break my heart. I just… I can’t believe she wouldn’t have said anything to me. I wish I could talk to her, one last time.”
Yan stepped closer and gripped his arm. “I know how that feels. We could get a message to her, if you like. That may not get you any answers, but it’s something.”
Girik shook his head. “She’s in a busy household, with people around her all the time. I saw to that on purpose so she’d be well taken care of.”
“Bryn could do it,” Yan insisted.
Girik cast a glance at the two figures speaking on the other side of the fire, and then quickly turned away again, blushing. “She could?”
“Yes. I know she could.”
“Would she?”
Yan’s lips curved slyly. “She’ll do it for me. It’ll take a bit of pleading, but in the end, she’ll do it.”
Before Girik could say anything more, Lyuc returned.
“Bryn says the brothers didn’t turn back. They were still galloping toward the village when she left them, so we have a little time to finish packing up and put some distance between us.”
Girik didn’t bother to form a reply, and when Yan simply widened his eyes and gave Lyuc a meaningful look, the wizard frowned. “What?”
It was Yan’s turn to roll his eyes. “We really need to spend more time around people. You just dumped something a little major on Girik and then walked away. He needs a little time.”
“He can have all the time he wants to think while we’re moving,” Lyuc replied as he waved a dismissive hand in the air and bustled back to the front of the wagon.
“Lyuc,” Yan said in that now-familiar tone.
The wizard turned and sighed. He pierced Girik with his intense blue eyes and said, “Look. I’m sorry if you don’t like what I have to say. You can choose to believe it or not. For proof, you need look no further than the mark on your wrist, your own refl
ection, and the hound at your side.”
“Bayor?” Girik asked, utterly confused.
“Have you ever seen another hound like him here either?”
“Well, no.”
“And where did he come from?” Lyuc pressed.
“I found him in the woods as a puppy. He must have gotten lost or his family was killed.”
“And he came right to you and does whatever you want, never wants to leave your side?”
Girik didn’t like it when people tried to make him feel dumb. He set his jaw and folded his arms over his chest as Bayor pressed against his thigh.
When no one said anything, Lyuc glanced at Yan, grumbled something, and then blew out a long breath. “That’s a Barrier Hound, bred by the mountain clans to chase off bear and wolves and take down elk and mountain rams. I haven’t spent much time with the clans because their shamans aren’t particularly friendly to other magic users, nor are the clans welcoming to outsiders in general, but I can recognize one of their hounds when I see one, even if they’ve changed a bit over the centuries. Your Bayor came to you. He bonded with you because that’s what they do. They choose one person and never another. I don’t know if he came looking for you or someone brought him here for you, but there he is—proof I know what I’m talking about.” He turned to Yan and put his hand palm up in a pleading motion. “You know I only mentioned it in the first place to try to help him… and us. If we had an in with the mountain clans, we’d have a place to rest and regroup without having to head all the way back south again, and I might be able to glean a little information from the clans, to see if they know anything. It would give us a direction to go in. I was merely trying to be helpful.”
Yan went to him and kissed his bearded cheek, and Lyuc’s somewhat petulant expression softened.
“Girik?”
Everyone turned to see Tas emerging from the woods. He looked calmer, more like the man Girik had first seen in the village square, with his stubborn chin held high and his shoulders back. Girik hurried to meet him, relieved to have someone to stand behind. Tas would know what to do. He would pick a direction, and Girik would follow, guard Tas’s back, and take care of the practicalities of living rough that Tas had no experience with. That was something he could handle.
“Meditation all done?” Lyuc asked, his tone not particularly warm.
“Yes,” Tas replied, sounding more confident than he had since their time in the village. “Singer and I have spoken. He wishes to stay with me until the time comes for their release. And he’s convinced me I should stay with you, long enough to learn to work without him. He seems convinced that you will be able to teach me so I may teach others.” Tas took Girik’s hand and squeezed it as he crossed the clearing to the wagon. “He has agreed to answer your questions in exchange for your teaching me and continued protection of both stones.”
“Done,” Lyuc said, clapping his hands together.
Tas held up his free hand. “I’d like to add one caveat, however. I don’t want to travel too far from Rassa. I don’t know what the gods have planned. I don’t understand all that they’ve allowed to happen.” He glanced at Girik and smiled. “But I do believe they have intervened here for a reason. I will not abandon my people in the chaos I’ve unleashed. I will use all I learn from you to help them as best I can, even if I have to do it from the shadows.”
Without waiting for a response from Lyuc, Tas turned to Girik and took his other hand. He tilted his head back and gazed at Girik with sober brown eyes. “You understand what that means? Anytime we return, we will be hunted. It will be dangerous, and I don’t even know how much I can do to salvage this situation.”
“I understand.”
“We won’t be able to settle,” Tas persisted. “We probably won’t be welcomed anywhere. You didn’t sign up for this. You’re not a warrior, Girik. You’ve done nothing wrong, and you should be able to pick up anywhere and live a happy life.”
“Without you?”
Tas grimaced. “I have to do as I feel called. I’m responsible for much that is to come, and despite any other feelings I might have, I must do all I can. If I can’t stop it, at least I can try to ease the transition and protect who I can.”
“I told you. I’m going with you as far as you’ll let me,” Girik said, jutting his own not inconsiderable chin out.
Tas’s answering smile was sweet, and Girik liked to think he saw relief there. Tas needed someone to take care of him, not that he would ever be comfortable admitting it. But Girik liked Tas’s pride. He loved it, in fact.
He held Tas’s gaze for a long time, trying to put as much of his admiration, trust, and love into his eyes as he could until someone cleared their throat, cutting in on the moment. A glance over Tas’s shoulder showed Bryn sitting on the front of the wagon, scowling at them and swinging her still-naked leg impatiently. “Can we go now?”
Lyuc had a somewhat softer look on his face as he held Yan’s hand and watched them, but the wizard still fidgeted with obvious impatience too. Yan gave Girik an apologetic smile.
“We can go,” Tas said. “Although we have little more than the clothes on our backs at this point.”
The wizard waved that away. “We have plenty of food, and we’ll reprovision at the first friendly settlement we can. The question is, which way do we go?”
Lyuc didn’t seem particularly invested in the answer, but he did glance in Girik’s direction with a raised brow.
“Uh—” Tas began.
“North and west, to the mountains,” Girik said.
Tas shot him a surprised questioning look, and Girik shrugged.
“Lyuc seems to think I have barbarian blood in me. I’m not sure I believe him, but I’m willing to try… and we won’t be too far from Rassa that way.”
“Really?”
Girik shrugged.
“But the mountains? In winter?” Tas said, turning to Lyuc.
“Like I may have mentioned before, there is a great deal of power stored in those mountains and only scattered clans to witness or object to me using it. Plus, you and I will be able to practice your lessons without worrying too much about unwanted interruptions, whether or not we are welcomed by Girik’s clan.”
Tas turned back to Girik. “Your clan?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Do I have you?”
Tas’s smile was instantaneous and brilliant. “You have me.”
“Then I’m sure.”
Greatly daring, Girik bent down and kissed Tas in front of everyone. When he pulled back, Tas was still smiling, although his cheeks had reddened. He gave Tas’s hand a brief squeeze before letting it go again. Gathering his courage, he strode to where Bryn sat and cleared his throat. She lifted a haughty brow and smirked at him, and his confidence wobbled. But after a quick glance over his shoulder at Tas and another at Yan, who gave him a nod of encouragement, he asked, “Bryn, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, but do you think you could take a message to my mother for me before we go? Please?”
She frowned. “You want me to go back to that village with two stone-wielders on the loose? Do I look like a carrier pigeon with a death wish to you?”
“Uh—” Girik floundered for a response, but Yan stepped in to save him.
“It’s important. His mother is ill, and this may be the last time he has a chance to communicate with her. Besides, we all know there’s no one craftier or cleverer than you. Those brothers never stood a chance. It’ll save you having to sit around in boredom while we pack up, and I’m sure Girik would be happy to give you many thorough rubdowns to say thank you.”
Girik gulped and turned huge eyes to Yan, wondering what the man had gotten him into. Bryn smirked and gave Yan a sideways glance. “Flattery and a rubdown will get you anywhere.” She turned laughing eyes back to Girik’s flaming face and said, “Write your letter. I will see it delivered.”
She hopped off her perch and swagger
ed away, her full, round, naked bottom swaying as she went.
Girik sent a pained look toward Tas, who held up his hands and shrugged.
“May the gods protect us.”
More from Rowan McAllister
Chronicles of the Riftlands: Book One
After centuries of traveling the continent of Kita and fighting the extradimensional monsters known as Riftspawn, mage Lyuc is tired and ready to back away from the concerns of humanity.
But the world isn’t done with him yet.
While traveling with a merchant caravan, Lyuc encounters Yan, an Unnamed, the lowest caste in society. Though Yan has nothing but his determination and spirit, he reminds Lyuc what passion and desire feel like. While wild magic, a snarky, shapeshifting, genderfluid companion, and the plots of men and monsters seem determined to keep Lyuc from laying down his burden, only Yan’s inimitable spirit tempts him to hang on for another lifetime or so.
All Yan wants is to earn the sponsorship of a guild so he can rise above his station, claim a place in society, and build the family he never had.
After hundreds of years of self-imposed penance, all Lyuc wants is Yan.
If they can survive prejudice, bandits, mercenaries, monsters, and nature itself, they might both get their wish… and maybe even their happily ever after.
Elemental Harmony: Book One
When absent-minded video game developer Jay Thurson impulsively follows his intuition westward, he never expects his rideshare to turn out to be a gun-toting madman. In an act of desperation, Jay turns to the gift he’s long neglected and feared for help and leaps from the moving car on a dark and deserted back country road.
Running for his life leads him to the doorstep of Adam Grauwacke, a roadside nursery owner and sometime vegetable farmer, whose affinity for the earth goes far beyond having a green thumb. Adam’s world is ordered and predictable, dependable and safe, but despite having his dream farm and business, he’s always felt something’s missing. When he welcomes Jay into his home, life seems to click for both men, and together they explore their gifts and their attraction.
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