by Jayne Castel
“Are you alright?” Ninia appeared to her left. “You’ve gone the color of porridge.”
“Not really,” Mira croaked, swallowing hard as bile stung the back of her throat. “I’ve just realized I’m a landlubber.”
“I didn’t know this was your first time at sea?” Asher stepped up to her right. Grim perched upon his right shoulder, talons digging into the leather of his vest. The bird hunched, its plush, white feathers ruffled by the wind. It didn’t appear to be enjoying the ride either.
“Aye … and my last.” Mira’s stomach flopped over when the barge crested yet another wave.
Feeling Ninia’s penetrating gaze still upon her, Mira tore her own attention away from where Aldeport was receding on the south-eastern horizon and met the girl’s eye.
There had been some awkwardness earlier. That morning, when Mira and Asher had come down to the common room for breakfast, the girl’s face had turned bright pink at the sight of them. “You two were loud last night,” Ninia had announced primly. “You kept me awake … you kept the whole inn awake.”
Mira supposed they had, although she couldn’t have cared less. If that was to be her only night with Asher, she wouldn’t waste time over embarrassment. Likewise, Asher had been unflustered by the girl’s announcement. He’d merely smiled.
Ninia appeared to have recovered from her embarrassment now. Her expression was serious, her hazel eyes pleading. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” she asked, pushing a lock of curly hair out of her eyes. “I meant what I said yesterday.”
Biliousness bubbled up within Mira with every roll of the waves. However, she managed a sickly smile. “Aye … I meant it. I’ll go as far as Idriss with you both, but that’s it.”
Ninia’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll miss you.”
Mira huffed. “I don’t see why … all we’ve ever done is argue.”
“You’ve looked after me.”
“You don’t need looking after, Ninia. This journey has changed you. You’re a woman now … a gifted one.”
The princess gave a weak smile. “I’ll miss you all the same.”
The merchant barge hugged the coast for a while, before striking north into the open sea toward The Wash—a wide stretch of water that separated the mainland from the Isle of Orin. After a spell, a great headland appeared to the north-east; carven peaks thrust up from the rocky shore, carpeted in velvet green from the first early spring flush.
Mira remained at the railing, her gaze upon the land. The wind had a bite to it, and she sucked in great gasps. The cold on her face made her feel better and calmed her roiling belly. It appeared she was getting her sea-legs now, yet she dared not remove her death-grip on the railing. She wouldn’t move from this perch till they docked.
At noon the barge’s captain offered them fresh bread and salted cold. Ninia and Asher joined him and his men for the meal, but Mira did not. Asher brought her a cup of water and some dry bread afterward, and thankfully she managed to keep that down.
“Feeling better?” Asher asked as she tentatively sipped her water. They’d barely spoken all morning. Mira had informed him of her decision shortly after dawn. She’d seen the disappointment in his eyes and the tension that rippled over his face—yet he’d said little. Unlike Ninia, he hadn’t tried to convince her to stay with him.
“A little,” she admitted, glancing over at him. His expression was guarded, his gaze veiled.
He was hiding it well, but she could see she’d hurt him.
“I’m sorry, Asher,” she murmured. The words felt clumsy on her tongue; she realized she rarely apologized to anyone. “You understand … don’t you?”
His mouth compressed. “Not really.” He paused then before attempting a smile. “But the decision is yours to make … I’ll not fight it.”
“It wouldn’t work,” she continued. “You and me.” Even to her the words sounded weak, her tone lacking conviction.
“You don’t know that.”
Mira heaved in a breath. He wasn’t making this easy. “I’ve a vicious temper. I’m pig-headed and foul-mouthed.”
He smiled. “I’m not so easily put off, you know.” He stepped closer, and Mira felt the heat of his body, inhaled the scent of man and leather that made her heart race. “I see beyond all that.”
Eventually, as the sun sank toward the watery western horizon, spilling gold across The Cruel Sea, and the breeze died to a whisper, they sailed into Idriss.
A huge flat-topped, purple mountain hove into view, dominating a wide bay. As they drew closer, Mira realized that the mountain was actually the city itself.
“Look at that,” Ninia breathed from her left. “A city carved into the side of an extinct volcano.”
Mira couldn’t take her gaze off it. Mount Velar dwarfed its surroundings. Buildings made of dark basalt climbed its steep sides in tiers linked by stairways. Closer still, she inhaled the smell of the docks: tar, fish, and brine. Ahead, the wide docks heaved with life—the space was many times the size of the pier at Aldeport.
Anticipation fluttered in the pit of Mira’s belly. She loved this city on sight.
She turned to Asher. “I take it you’ve been here before?”
He nodded. “Many times. See the building that crowns the city?” He pointed to a large dark fortress. “That’s the Great Library of Idriss … the biggest library in all The Four Kingdoms. As an apprentice, I passed many a long day studying there.”
“As will I.” Ninia piped up excitedly. “I can’t wait.”
Mira tore her attention from the approaching city and glanced over at Ninia. The princess’s face was alight, her eyes shining. She really does want to join the order, Mira realized with surprise.
“You’ll make a good enchanter,” she said, voicing her thoughts. “You’ve got a thirst for knowledge, plus you’re dogged.”
Ninia tore her attention from the approaching port and glanced Mira’s way, surprised. “You don’t believe I’m a danger to all then?”
Mira’s mouth quirked. “No … I don’t.”
They sailed across the Bay of Idriss, weaving their way between fishing skiffs and barges that crisscrossed the busy water. A massive wooden pier thrust out from the docks into the harbor, and the merchant barge docked halfway down it.
Asher dug into the pouch on his belt and paid the captain a silver talent for the journey. His coin reserves were very light now, but he didn’t want Mira digging into her purse. She’d need what little coin she had left to make a new start.
His gut twisted at the thought. She can’t leave … not after last night. He was still reeling in the aftermath; he’d never known passion like it. He wasn’t ready to give it up.
He climbed up onto the docks, and Mira and Ninia followed close behind. The late afternoon sun glittered on the water of the bay and gilded the terraces of the city that reared up before him. He saw an iron cage cranking its way up the mountain—taking those who wished to save their legs, and who could afford to pay, up to the higher levels. Around him, men’s voices rose and fell and gulls wheeled overhead, their cries carrying across the water.
Unlike the last time Asher had visited the city, there were a number of soldiers in the crowd, their iron helms gleaming in the late afternoon sun—a sign that even here in the north, war cast its long shadow.
Despite the reminder that they had only outrun unrest for the moment, Asher inhaled the smell of the docks, feeling his body relax as he did so. He turned to Mira, who had stepped up next to him. “I love this place,” he admitted. “I always wanted to live in this city.”
Her mouth curved. “I can see why … there’s energy here. Life.”
“Surely you prefer The Royal City?” Ninia spoke up from behind them. “I’ve heard no other capital in The Four Kingdoms rivals its beauty.”
Asher shook his head. “That city feels more like a cage these days … I’ve spent too many years there.”
Feeling Mira watching him, he glanced her way. He saw underst
anding in her eyes; she knew what he meant. Their gazes locked for a moment, and suddenly the docks seemed an airless place.
“But what about the order?” Ninia’s voice intruded, slightly indignant. “You’d leave it?”
“Aye, I would,” he murmured, never taking his gaze from Mira’s. “I’ve given them twenty years.”
Mira stared back at him for a heartbeat longer before she looked away, her expression pained.
Silence fell between the three of them. The journey to Idriss was over; they’d now reached a crossroads.
“So what now, Mira?” Asher didn’t want to ask the question, but he forced himself to do so anyway. “It’s getting late … will you stay the night with us in Idriss? We’ll be heading off first thing tomorrow, once we’ve found horses.”
He saw her hesitate, tension rippling out from her as if she wished to flee. She took a step back from him, her shoulders squaring.
Disappointment lanced through him. He’d hoped she’d give them one more night together. Instead, he knew that stubborn look. She wouldn’t stay, for fear he’d try to change her mind.
“It’s best I go now,” she replied. “It’s easier.”
Ninia surprised them both by rushing forward and hugging Mira, nearly knocking her off her feet with the force of her embrace. The princess’s eyes were glittering with tears when she released her guardian. “Where will you go? What will you do?”
Mira shrugged. “Errad maybe … I don’t know.”
“Well if you get bored, come find me in The Royal City.”
Mira nodded, her expression tense, before she glanced across at Asher. “Look out for her, will you?”
He didn’t reply. He wanted to assure her he would, but the words had lodged in his throat.
Ninia stepped away, leaving space for Asher to move close to Mira. He did, noting the nerve that flickered in her cheek. She was finding this as difficult as him.
“Please don’t go,” he whispered. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t beg, but now that the moment had come he couldn’t keep his vow. “The world will seem grey without you.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Then she reached up, her fingers trailing down the line of his jaw. “I’m glad we met, Asher of the Light,” she murmured. “I won’t forget you.”
She shifted back from him then, three rapid steps that created a gulf between them. Asher wanted to follow her, to reach for her and kiss her, but the look in Mira’s eyes warned him from doing so. She wouldn’t thank him. He had to let her go.
Without another word, Mira shouldered her pack and turned, her dark cloak billowing. Then she walked away down the pier. A moment later the crowd of dock-workers, merchants, and sailors swallowed her whole.
35
The Bridge Between Two Lives
MIRA LEFT IDRISS that afternoon.
She rode north upon a stocky mare named Whinny—a sweet-natured piebald cob, with feathered feet and a thick mane and tail. She’d cost Mira two gold talents. It had been hard to part with the coin, but she needed a good horse.
Whinny had a light, bouncing stride that carried Mira swiftly along the coast road. Skirting the bulge of The Western Cradle—Rithmar’s breadbasket—this route would eventually lead her to the northern city of Errad.
The outskirts of Idriss stretched out for a while, and as the shadows started to lengthen, Mira rode through a wild landscape of rolling hills to the east and a rocky coastline to the west. Surf crashed against the stony shore, seabirds screeched overhead, and the scent of brine hung heavily in the cool air. Farther south, the first signs of spring were starting to show—the first green shoots and blossom—but this far north, winter still held the world in its grip. The wind that whistled in from the sea had a bite to it, and Mira was glad of her thick, woolen cloak.
She’d been on edge while in Idriss, but the farther she traveled from the port the lighter she started to feel, as if she’d been carrying a great weight upon her back for too long.
Free … at last.
With the wind in her hair, riding upon a horse she’d bought with her own coin, Mira felt unfettered. It was an exhilarating sensation. She had no idea what lay ahead, or what she’d do when she reached Errad. But at least it would be her choice to make.
Lingering in the port was risky. Saying goodbye to Asher—and to Ninia—was harder than she’d expected. She didn’t want to weaken in her resolve and end up seeking them out. She had to leave now.
She’d known Asher had wanted to kiss her goodbye, but she couldn’t let him.
It had taken all her will to step away. He’d looked at her with such yearning, she’d almost believed it might work between them. But she reminded herself that he’d lied to her. The attraction between them was explosive, but it hadn’t erased her anger toward him. The bond between them was like morning mist. Trying to keep hold of it would only lead to disappointment.
I have to go.
And yet thoughts of Asher still crept in, dimming her buoyant mood. His words upon the docks at Idriss haunted her. He’d likened his life as an enchanter in The Royal City to living in a cage. She understood that feeling. They had more in common than she’d realized.
Mira wondered about Ninia too. The girl was plucky and filled with a power that Mira didn’t understand. Watching Ninia unleash three times over the past few days, she was in awe of the princess—and wary of her.
Ninia had a difficult path before her.
Pushing aside the lingering thoughts, Mira leaned forward and urged Whinny into a gallop along a straight stretch of road that hugged the coast. The horse responded eagerly, her gait flattening as she raced north.
Asher found the goshawk scribe in the midst of The Tangle, the network of narrow streets that spread out beyond the port of Idriss.
The scribe had a tiny stall halfway down a fetid alleyway. A small, slender man of Asher’s age sat at a low stool, a row of perching goshawks behind him. The birds of prey all wore collars and were shackled to their perch waiting for the next errand. The goshawks—with mackerel patterns on their necks and breasts, and grey or brown wings—watched him under hooded lids, unblinking.
The man, who had been sharpening his quill with a knife, looked up. “Evening. How can I be of service?”
Asher gave a tight smile. “I have an urgent message to go to the capital,” he replied.
A short while later, Asher watched the goshawk take flight, the tiny scroll fastened to its collar. The bird wheeled into the sky before striking east, a silhouette against the darkening sky. Asher craned his neck, keeping his eyes on the bird until it flew out of sight. Then he thanked the scribe and left the stall.
The message was now on its way to the House of Light and Darkness—to Ryana of the Dark. He’d kept the message brief and devoid of detail, for he couldn’t risk it ending up in the wrong hands. He’d asked Ryana to meet him at The Black Boar Inn, in The Royal City’s lower town, four evenings from now, and to tell no one of his return. If he and Ninia rode hard, they’d make it by then.
Asher strode back through the labyrinthine slums, before climbing the stairs to Idriss’s first tier. A fiery sunset blazed overhead, making the pitted stone walls of the city look as if they were ablaze. He’d left Ninia at an inn up here earlier, before heading back down to The Tangle. Now that he’d sent a message to Ryana, he could relax a little.
Yet the moment he let the tension ebb, thoughts of the day—and thoughts of what he’d lost—crowded in.
Mira was somewhere in this great sprawl of tightly-packed basalt houses.
Asher’s chest constricted. He shouldn’t have let her walk away. Why hadn’t he stopped her?
It was too late now. He’d never find her in a city this size—not with just one night to search. In just a few days he’d be back in The Royal City, and once they’d confronted Irana and convinced her that Ninia wasn’t a danger, his life would go on as before.
Keep telling yourself that, he told himself bitterly as he entered the Driftwo
od Arms. One day you might convince yourself it’s true.
The problem was that he’d changed. He wasn’t sure he could go back to his old life.
Ninia was waiting for him in the common room, huddled at the back with a tankard of ale before her she’d barely touched. Asher ordered himself a drink and joined her.
“Is it done?” she asked.
He nodded. “Ryana will be waiting for us.”
“Can we trust her?”
“Aye,” he replied with a wry smile. Ryana wasn’t like the other enchanters—himself included. She had a healthy distrust of authority and would readily keep his secret. He leaned back against the upholstered leather seat, lifted his tankard to his lips, and took a deep draft.
Ninia watched him, her gaze shuttered.
“Don’t start,” he warned. “It won’t change anything.”
The princess’s lips compressed, and she folded her arms across her chest. “You let her go too easily. She’d have stayed if you’d asked.”
“I did, and she said no.”
“You only asked once … you should have insisted.”
Asher gave a bitter laugh. “You wanted me to get down on my knees and beg?”
“Maybe you should have.”
Asher’s fingers clenched around the tankard. Both Ninia and Mira would have enjoyed that—only he still had some pride left.
He wished the princess would leave him alone. All he wanted was to order a jug of ale and drown himself in it. Ninia’s expression as she stared back at him made him want to hurl his tankard across the room.
“I know this is my fault,” he growled, biting out the words.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t need to.”
Ninia sighed then, sagging in her seat. She suddenly appeared much younger than fourteen. Her face was pale, her hazel eyes hollowed. It was easy to forget that she bore a gift that was both great and terrible; one that had made the creatures of darkness bow before her.