Quests Volume One

by Barbara G. Tarn

  She smiled eloquently at Hinrik who raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything.

  "All men want someone to do unspeakable things to them, even though they'd never admit it," Fabrizio added. Bellinda had had a crush on him before realizing he'd never return her love. But at the moment she really hated him, even though he was still the most handsome man she knew – besides Hinrik.

  "You wish!" Lucrezia scoffed. "I bet he doesn't want you to do what you want with his body!"

  "Well, he doesn't want you either, honey," Fabrizio retorted. "So why are you still here?"

  "Why are you both still here?" Bellinda fumed. "He's mine! Get out of the way, will you?"

  All three stared at her and she felt her cheeks burn.

  "Why didn't you say so?" Lucrezia shrugged and rose.

  "I thought you'd made a chastity vow!" Fabrizio added.

  "Come, Faber. I wonder how she finds all those hunks and then dumps them for no reason..."

  Lucrezia took Fabrizio's arm and led him away.

  "Yes, I kind of liked that Keneith too," Fabrizio was saying.

  Bellinda clenched her teeth and her fists. Sometimes she really hated her friends. As they vanished behind the bushes that hid the sight of the town walls and the sound of bird calls slowly covered the gurgling of water nearby, Bellinda calmed down and finally managed to look at Hinrik.

  He was smiling and looking at her.

  "Sorry, sometimes my friends are really dumb," she muttered, looking away. "I don't know how they found us, we were supposed to be on our own today."

  "I may have said something about it, but I wasn't aware there wouldn't be others," he said.

  "Well, I thought we could talk about what you want to do next, if you like Havenstock and..."

  "I like Havenstock."

  "And you can find work and a house and..."

  "A woman, yes, found that too."

  "Good!" She exhaled and looked at him again. He still looked amused. "So you're not having trouble with our accents?"

  "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I'll get used to it."

  "Good. I'm glad you don't regret your decision."

  "I don't. I would have appreciated if you had told me before telling your friends, though."

  "Told you what?" She glanced at him, puzzled, but his stare upset her more than she cared to admit.

  He slid closer to her so that his hand on the grass almost touched hers. He leaned to whisper in her ear.

  "That I belong to you. Or was it just a way to get rid of them?"

  Her heart jumped so hard, she thought it would come out of her mouth. She had really hoped he hadn't understood that part. She still couldn't believe she had said it.

  "You don't belong to anyone," she said, unable to look at him. Her voice shook and she cleared her throat. "I mean, I wasn't sure you were aware that they were hitting on you or what..."

  "I am aware," he replied. "I might be a wicked half-blood, but I know I'm handsome. And for some people it's a kink to have sex with me. Now, your friends might not know I'm a half-blood, but they behave exactly like the people in Salamar who knew."

  "So, not to your liking," she deducted.

  "No. That's why I didn't reply." He pulled away and sighed. "Thanks for ridding me of them, then."

  Now he sounded disappointed. He stared at the river, thoughtful, hugging his knees. Maybe he was thinking of joining Wioleta and leaving the freaky Humans forever.

  I should stop trying to second-guess him, she thought. I should just ask, or tell him how I feel.

  "So you found everything you were looking for here?" That wasn't really what she wanted to ask, but she couldn't bring herself to ask the real question.

  "I thought so," he answered absentmindedly. "But on one point I was obviously mistaken."

  "Oh? Which one?"

  "Woman. I thought I had found one. That she cared for me enough to claim me before even telling me she wanted me. Because she knew I'd be hers anyway. I must have misunderstood."

  She gaped at him. "Wait a moment! Are you talking about me? Are you saying you followed me because you wanted to be with me no matter where I went?"

  He looked at her and slowly smiled. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

  ***

  Hinrik wasn't sure when he'd realized he'd fallen in love with Bellinda. The past eight months had been so intense... Recovering from the siege of Moriana, discovering his true nature, accepting the gifts Water had given him, finding his first real friends – lovely Bellinda, grumpy Keneith, cheerful Raykim – and seeing the world... He'd been overwhelmed!

  No wonder he hadn't realized his feelings for the only woman of the group had changed, probably during the months they'd been on the road with Raykim without much Human interaction. At first he'd thought it was gratitude for her healing and taking him to a new life. Another reason to do the mating swim and try other women before making up his mind.

  Havenstock was similar to Salamar, but nobody know he was the son of an unmarried washerwoman. The dialect was slightly different, but he knew he could learn it quickly if he kept interacting with the locals.

  Bellinda was still there to help him, introducing him to people, translating for him, and he was glad he had stuck to her instead of following the cousins to the southern kingdoms.

  And then Bellinda had sort of claimed him in front of her friends and had showed she cared about him, which had made him feel immensely happy. Stupidly happy. Even when she backed up and sort of denied everything.

  She must have been struggling with her feelings for months too. Maybe she was still sort of attached to Keneith, even though they'd parted ways. Maybe she was afraid of the age gap, or of commitment.

  As she stammered some other stupid excuse, he decided to take everything into his own hands. He gently grabbed her face and leaned to close her mouth with his kisses. He could tell he was taking her breath away and he let her go, panting for breath himself. Going underwater wasn't as breathtaking as this!

  His heart beat faster as he lost himself in her eyes. There was no need for words. He had found a place to call home.

  The Path of Air

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sayla tied her golden-brown hair into a knot at the nape of her neck and pulled up the long, wide sleeves of her chemise coming out of her short-sleeved rosewood-colored dress to free her arms. Keenan helped her fasten the bracer on her left forearm to protect it against injury by the string of the bow or the fletching of the arrow. The leather arm-guard had been made by Keenan himself and was decorated with colorful beads. Having a friend who was also a tanner's son had its perks.

  "Thanks." She nodded to him and adjusted her long gown around her legs. She flexed her feet and legs, warming up her body, getting herself ready to shoot a few arrows into a target. She opened and closed her hands, preparing her fingers for the competition.

  Keenan handed her the leather quiver decorated with colorful beads that matched the bracer, again one of his creations. Sayla counted the arrows – twelve, correct – before putting the quiver on her back with the baldric.

  She took her bow and strung it. It was made of yew wood, almost as tall as her when unstrung. She braced the lower limb tip on the outside of her right foot wrapped in a soft leather boot and stepped across, allowing her left calf to brace the lower limb on the belly side of the bow. She grasped the upper limb, pushed and bent it to string the bow.

  She joined the line of archers of both sexes for the annual competition of Inex, her hometown. The expanse was outside the wooden walls and the several large gates. The town was built around several springs on the coast of the northern sea, and it had lavish temples and city parks even inside the walls.

  Like most northern towns where snow fell in winter, the buildings had slanted roofs and the streets were full of pigeons and crows. It was famous for its taverns and cuisine, but mostly for its archers. Only a quarter of the town population were fishermen, a quarter shopkeepers or innkeepers, and half were arche
rs, mostly hunters in the forest that grew not far from the southern walls and gates.

  The yearly competition was a happy time for the whole town. Archers came from outside to measure themselves against the locals, but they rarely won.

  Despite being the youngest and quite petite compared to the others, Sayla had won three years in a row, beating her own elder brother Sanylo who had been the former champion until she'd been finally allowed to compete.

  In spite of her arms being shorter than Sanylo's and her shots less powerful, she always hit the center of the target, no matter how far it was. Her keen eyesight meant she never missed. Her arrows flew straight through channels of air only she could see.

  At nineteen Sayla was the best archer in town, but that hadn't made her very popular. Some actually muttered she was a witch and used magic to win, which was of course absurd.

  The breeze caressed her, making her feel good. Safe, protected. She could see the wind currents and take advantage of them and she had a special connection with them. Air was her element, if only she could fly...

  As she waited for her turn to shoot, she sighed and looked up at the clouds chasing each other in the blue sky. She wished she could join the murder of crows who were watching the competition from up above, calling to each other and cheering for her.

  She smiled. How kind of them to be there. Unlike those dirty pigeons, crows were nice to talk to. She had quickly realized that she was the only one in town able to talk to birds, besides her mother, so she kept her friendship with the crows to herself.

  Of the townspeople, only Keenan cheered for her. Certainly not her jealous brother. Not her other friends either. Foreigners stared suspiciously at her. Her parents... had stopped coming to the expanse after her first victory, unable to watch their offspring compete against each other. But the crows were real fans.

  Sometimes she thought birds were better than Humans. They were nicer to her than most inhabitants of Inex – and very few people knew her mother was not Human. She looked Human, although she seemed to grow old slower than Humans, but she was actually Sila, Air's people. She'd been born with wings that had been ripped off twenty-five years earlier.

  Sayla had always felt great affinity with her mother Talullah, but lately something was amiss. There was a reticence on her mother's part about the topic of her people, a missing link. Sayla had requested to attend Sila ceremonies during her childhood, but had always been denied – until she had stopped asking.

  And then her mother had started going on her own, or with her husband, leaving her and Sanylo at home. It had been the beginning of a fracture, of a lack of communication with her own mother that was becoming wider every day.

  "What kind of bird is that, Sanylo?" someone asked, pointing at what looked like a small black dot high up in the sky.

  As the blacksmith's son an excellent archer, Sanylo was very popular. He had many friends and at twenty-two he was the most sought after bachelor in town. Sayla often thought he was too full of himself and the girls who fell for him were plain stupid, but he was handsome and had a dazzling smile. And he could be charming when he wanted to.

  "I can't tell," Sanylo answered, frowning. "It's too far."

  Sayla watched. Her eyes zoomed in on the dot, focusing on the flying creature who turned out to have a human body with big feathery wings. A Sila. She had seen plenty, but obviously her brother's eyesight wasn't as good as hers.

  Since nobody bothered asking her, she kept quiet, observing the Sila fly by. She might tell her mother after the competition, or just keep it to herself. The winged being vanished and the crows reminded her where she was.

  "Your turn, Sayla!" Sanylo snapped. He was as tall as their father, but not as gentle. Especially now that Sayla had proved she was a better archer than him. His pride was hurt, and he kept saying that she'd never find a husband if she kept beating everyone at the annual competition.

  She didn't really care. The only one interested in her was Keenan, who didn't like shooting arrows. Therefore he didn't feel threatened by her skill. Sanylo thought Keenan was a loser anyway, even though the belts, boots, quivers and bracers he made were the best in town. But Keenan's profession made him a pariah for most of the townspeople.

  Sayla focused on the target. She held the arrow nock between index and middle finger, placed the arrow on the left side of the bow and drew it back with her right hand to touch her fleshy lips. She loosed the arrow. Straight center. Applause and a grunt from Sanylo.

  She waited for the target to be pulled back. Again the crows distracted her and she saw a Sila couple fly by. The pull to join them was so strong this time, it took her breath away. The scars on her back itched as if she was trying to open the wings she didn't have. The ghost wings she always imagined but could never feel.

  She wanted to fly. She wanted to ride the clouds. She wanted to taste the Clouds Nectar again. Her mother had once given her small bits of that strange fluffy food, and unlike Sanylo she hadn't been sick after eating it. She loved the taste and she felt it on her tongue – in spite of the years gone by since – as the two Sila flew off in the distance.

  She took deep calming breaths, but she was still on edge. She felt like a prisoner. Of her life on the ground, of the earthlings around her who were jealous of her skills or stared at her with open hostility.

  She fired the next arrow in anger, to release some tension, and still hit the center of the target. Winning competitions wasn't fun. Hunting in the forest wasn't fun. Sitting in her mother's shop wasn't fun. Jumping from a cliff and gliding somewhere sounded heavenly. She could soar through the skies forever and never get bored.

  Except she didn't have wings. Like her mother, she was stuck on the ground. Maybe she should demand to be taken to the next Sila gathering. Even though she wasn't a child anymore. Precisely because she wasn't a child anymore.

  Her arrows kept hitting the center of the target, no matter how far it was. But the game wasn't fun anymore. It was time to talk to her family. She wasn't happy. She wanted more. She wanted something else.

  This time she wasn't going to keep quiet about it.

  ***

  Keenan observed Sayla shooting her arrows with her usual precision. But he could tell she was nervous. She stared at the sky more than usual and even gasped as some point. Either the crows had told her something or she had seen something nobody else could see.

  Keenan had looked up and tried to figure out what had upset her, but of course he couldn't see anything. Still, her pretty face brooded more and more after each arrow, in spite of her winning the competition.

  She's not smiling at all this year, he thought. I wish I understood what the birds are telling her.

  He knew she had a special relationship with feathered creatures. She was so different from the rest of her family, and not only for the lighter hair and eye color! Truly she was different from every single inhabitant of Inex – she stood out in a crowd in spite of her diminutive height.

  They were the same age and they had grown up together, both shy and introverted and usually ignored by their peers. He didn't have an asshole of an older brother, but he wasn't popular either. Not that he cared, as long as he could talk to her.

  Her friendship was precious to him, because she was the only one who never pinched her nose as if he always smelled like his father's tannery. She didn't treat him like the last of the down-and-outs only because he lived in the slums.

  No tannery was ever built inside town walls and tanners weren't really poor like the people around them, but the perception of the townspeople was skewed. It didn't matter that Keenan was the best tanner in town, most still upturned their noses at him.

  Not Sayla, though. She had always been nice to him and they had exchanged secrets in the past that tied them somehow. He knew her mother was a maimed Sila, but he wasn't sure of what a Sila actually looked like. Sayla had tried to describe to him what she saw high up in the sky, but it was marvels only she could see.

  My Wonder Girl! h
e often thought with growing tenderness. He knew by now that he was madly in love with her, but he hadn't found a way to tell her and ask her if she wanted to spend her life with him.

  He wanted to hold her and cuddle her and make her smile and protect her from bullies and assholes until the day he died. But in spite of their friendship – or because of their friendship – he was afraid to ruin whatever relationship he had with her by telling her how he felt.

  He could see she was restless lately. She had blossomed into a very pretty young woman and the others were starting to notice. He heard a group of Sanylo's friends commenting on the way her gown wrapped her willowy frame and how she'd grown really nice tits.

  She's mine! He glared at them, but of course they didn't even notice him. At least he knew she wasn't interested in any of them. Or maybe she was? He should really find the courage to ask her. Maybe tonight at the celebration? Tomorrow after the temple functions?

  The competition ended and Sayla got her prize – a ham – thanking through her teeth and still unsmiling. Keenan tried to talk to her, but she stormed away from the field as if she was mad at everyone.

  Keenan sighed. Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow he'd talk to her and tell her he loved her. No need to upset her further today. And he had the afternoon and night to gather his courage and find the right words.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sayla mostly ignored the temple on Godsday. She had grown up with the local religion, but also with her mother's teachings, and she'd rather pray on her own than join the crowded gatherings every six days. She didn't have her mother's beautiful voice, therefore she didn't like to sing those boring hymns.

  Thankfully that morning her mother said they should go to the shop and do the inventory. It was spring, most roads had reopened and business would soon pick up again. They needed to be prepared.

  Talullah had inherited Juliasam's shop. The very overweight owner had passed away six months earlier, leaving everything to her trusted assistant.

  Juliasam had been one of the few who knew that Talullah was a maimed Sila. She had opened a trap components shop that also provided maps and adventuring supplies with her late husband who had died in a hunting accident a couple of years after they started the business.