Faelost

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Faelost Page 28

by Courtney Privett


  “Yes, I should transcribe what I can first, just in case something . . . odd . . . something odd happens. Writing can be just as powerful as speech and gestures, and thought is the most powerful tool of all. When it comes to my back, I think it will be safer to get your help with it rather than someone magic-skilled because you don't have the ability to cast, even accidentally.” Shan's eyes grew wide as he looked down at the single line of runes on his otherwise unmarred forearm. “Oh. Ohh . . . I never thought of that. It makes so much sense. I'll need to practice before I try it with anyone who matters, but . . . Tessen, thank you! This will change everything.”

  “I'm fine with you using them when we stop as long as I can wear them for travel and watch. I feel safer when my vision is clear,” I said.

  “Yes, of course.” Shan scowled at the dragons, then returned to the edge of his tent. Marita's feet stuck out from beneath the blankets and her left toes twitched as Shan raised the tarp flap. He ducked inside and dug through his belongings, likely in search of a journal and a pen.

  I jolted as a hand tapped on my shoulder. I spun around to meet Rose's fatigued, heavy-lidded eyes. She rubbed the back of her neck and whispered, “I don't think you know what you've done.”

  “I figured out I could help him read his own skin,” I replied.

  Rose shook her head and looked past me at the tent. “No, sweetheart. I know you're trying to help him, but maybe he'd be better off translating the markings piece by piece instead of all at once. What you did was give him access to every bit of secret knowledge that the Jarrah chose to preserve on him, knowledge they inscribed for their own dark purposes. I don't think he is ready for the power of his own flesh, and reading it doesn't give him the ability or maturity to understand the implications of what he might conjure. The gift you gave him is a dangerous one. I hope he can handle it, but I'm afraid of what might happen if he can't.”

  “I won't take back my offer of letting him use them, or of helping him transcribe what he can't see.”

  “No, I didn't think you would. Be cautious about what you transcribe from his back, though. Those spells were placed with intent and design, and sometimes the darkest shadows are hidden just out of sight.” Rose turned away from me and disappeared into her tent.

  The wind whipped my hair into my eyes and sent crystalline leaves tumbling across the sparse grass. The horses snorted and the dragons chirped. It couldn't be a mistake to give Shan the ability to make sense of the writing on his own body. Could it?

  ∆∆∆

  The Mala Basin's boreal rainforest was unnerving in its warmth and complexity. Thick moss and vines coated intertwined tree trunks and an abundance of small animals scurried or fluttered between leaves and ferns. The heavy air sat comfortably in my lungs and was a welcome change from the dry and volatile stench of the Crystal Forest. This was a lush, green world populated by evergreens and broadleaf trees, fungi and lichen, ferns and brambles and all manner of fauna. It was the closest thing to the redwood forests of the Jade Realm that I'd seen since we found ourselves in the Faelands, and I needed to remind myself that nothing about this place was anything close to home.

  We passed two villages on the first day, but they were far enough removed from the main road that we didn't have to ride through them. I was grateful for that, because the few traveling Fae we passed scrutinized us with such intense suspicion that I was certain they'd report us to authorities who would hunt us down and arrest us.

  I spent most of the first day riding next to Ragan, who grumbled continuously about how hot he was in his improvised desert orc disguise. He knew it was necessary to keep him from being recognized as a half-Fae, but that didn't stop him from complaining about it. He couldn't breathe with the scarf over his face or see with the goggles covering his eyes, and he was too hot in the extra layers that bulked up his lean build, but aside from having to hide his tail, the worst of the disguise was the gloves. Ragan's slender fingers immediately gave him away as non-orcan, which necessitated Iefyr padding a pair of his own gloves to give Ragan's hands the required thickness. Much to Ragan's frustration, this resulted in excessively sweaty palms and an inability to perform fine tasks. We hoped the alteration was enough to not attract notice. Iefyr's hands were smaller than those of a full-blooded orc, so even stuffed with padding Ragan's hands weren't quite large enough to convince anyone familiar with orc anatomy. It was the only option he had, though, so he had to chance it.

  We took care to avoid two more villages on the second day and four on the third. We camped the third night within the natural shelter created by a cluster of fallen trees. By the light of the campfire, I practiced swordfighting with Ragan while Rose worked with Shan, and Iefyr taught Marita and Nador how to whittle tiny animals out of chunks of pine wood. The dragons busied themselves hunting the local wildlife. They reappeared while we were roasting squirrels over the fire—Serida with a small brown weasel and Lumin with a mottled black and white bird. They happily tore apart their kills, then begged to share ours.

  On the afternoon of the fourth day, we came to the edge of a large town. The road transitioned from dirt to brick near a sign that proclaimed, “Welcome to Kethra!”

  We paused before the sign. In a nearby field, several people stopped picking turnips and stared at us. I frantically shoved Serida into her produce box and covered her with a blanket. Shan and Ragan adjusted their hoods and lowered their heads.

  “I don't think we can avoid this one,” Rose said as she looked upon the town. The road bisected Kethra along a narrow river, and a dense collection of buildings ran all the way to the bluffs that sat below the towering mountains. This segment of the Basin was narrower than any other point we'd encountered so far, and it was clear what Rose said was correct.

  Iefyr joined Rose. His horse stomped at the brickwork, restless. “If we can find an inn to take us, we've got plenty of coin. Perhaps we can find a real bed to sleep in for the night. Maybe even a drink or two to shake away the nerves.”

  “I don't think that's a good idea,” Ragan muttered, his head still low over Sprite's neck.

  “Why not?” Nador asked. “Even if you hide yourself away in a room all night, you'll still be more comfortable than you've been in weeks. Or is it months now? We'll bring you food and you can keep the dragons company so we can take your boys out.”

  “I'm not gonna sit on my ass and babysit...” Ragan let out a heavy sigh and fumbled with his scarf. “Fine. Find an inn. Could use a quiet night to myself.”

  “Knew you had some sense in you. Not much, but some,” Nador said. She winked at me, then rode forward and past the sign. She was alone on Marita's horse while Marita rode with Shan.

  Ragan sighed again, then followed Nador into Kethra.

  ∆∆∆

  It took an over hour and some negotiating by Rose before we found an inn that would take in six non-Fae and a Faeline who was clearly ignorant of current local customs. After doubling our original offer and promising more than once that the elves would stay out of trouble, we were allowed a pair of rooms by the Faeline owners of The Dancing Dragon Inn.

  Ragan, Shan, and I smuggled the dragons upstairs while the others settled the horses in the stable. This was no easy task, as the curious dragons kept trying to poke their heads out of the blankets while Fae eyes peered at us from cracked doors and creaking staircases.

  Ragan unlocked the heavy door and held it open for Shan and me to go inside. A huge bed sat against the far wall beneath cobweb-covered sconces. A large desk with a chair so tall that I'd have to climb to sit on it was positioned between the dusty drapes of a filmy window. Ragan closed the drapes, then sat on the bed. The sturdy frame didn't creak under his weight.

  “I guess the good thing is these beds are built to hold even the biggest Fae and and their whole damned families.” Ragan removed his gloves, then picked at his scarf until it dropped from his nose and mouth. “Much better. Can breathe again.” His nose twitched. He rubbed it, then pushed his goggles up to his
forehead. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he tried to subdue a smile. “I think this is okay. We'll have to figure out bed arrangements between this room and the other, but there's room for everyone so long as the smaller three don't grab one bed and try to make the rest of us share the other.”

  “Smaller three? I'm not small,” Shan said. He set Lumin's box on the floor and removed the blanket. Lumin stretched his neck and looked around. He snapped his jaws together twice and looked up at Shan expectantly. “I don't have anything fresh for you right now. You'll have to wait.”

  Lumin growled, then lowered his neck until he was curled into a tight ball in his box.

  “Do you have to be hungry all the time?” Shan mumbled. He unwound his scarf from his head and yawned.

  Ragan tilted his head to one side, then the other, then turned his neck until it popped. “You're small enough, Shannon. Much smaller than the rest of us, save Nador and Marita. Elven blood will do that to you. You're taller and heavier than nearly any full-blooded elf out there, but you're slighter than most human men. Look at Iefyr, too. He's tiny if you're judging him by his orc blood, no bigger than Tessen and I'd guess he weighs less. Anyway, don't go claiming a bed with Marita and Nador and leaving the rest of us to crowd.”

  “Fine. I'm not staying with you, though.”

  Ragan lowered his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do what you want, Shannon. I'm tired of trying to earn back your favor.”

  “You never had it to begin with.” Shan shook his fingers through his sweaty hair and glared at the covered window. “Just because I'm friendly to someone doesn't mean I like them, and I never liked you.”

  “Liar,” I said. I sat on the floor so I could pet Serida without bending. “You adored Ragan when he lived with us, and you were devastated when he left.”

  Shan scowled as he turned his back to me. “I don't care what you think you remember.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my memory.”

  A knock on the door was followed by the creak of rusty hinges. Ragan and Shan instinctively covered their faces, but relaxed as soon as they recognized the intruder as Marita.

  Marita held up a struggling burlap sack. “I brought them rats from the stable. Ragan, Rose is going to bring you some hot food in a couple minutes. Kitchen's serving mutton stew in bread bowls today.”

  The dragons looked up at Marita and licked their lips. She tossed the sack into the corner and the dragons bolted after it. They plunged their heads into the opening. Two sharp squeaks, then nothing but crunches and satisfied chirps.

  “I don't care what it is so long as I don't have to hunt and skin anything,” Ragan said.

  Marita sat next to him on the bed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I feel bad that the rest of us are going out and leaving you behind. There's a festival tonight and you're going to miss it.”

  “I don't mind. I've been stuck with you lot for too long and it's making me snippy. It'll be nice to have some peace. I've got a book in my bag that I've been meaning to read, and now I'll have a little time to get started on it. Or, I might just sleep. This bed's something divine after all that time we've spent on rocks.”

  “Yes, it certainly is. I could lie back and sleep right now.”

  “Don't,” Shan said, his arms crossed. “We're going out, just the two of us. Ragan can do whatever, and the rest can go out alone or together, I don't care. Ragan, Lumin will be easy for you. He'll fall asleep after he eats his rat and will be out for the night. Tessen, don't stay here. Go out and do something. Marita, let's go. I'm hungry.”

  Shan pulled Marita to her feet. She pretended to stumble, then leaned into him for a kiss. “Yes, let's go.”

  I waited until the door was closed before getting off the floor to sit next to Ragan. “Shan's . . . Shan's persnickety. He didn't mean what he said about never liking you.”

  Ragan laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “This is far too comfortable. I doubt I'll get much reading done. Tessen, you don't have to explain your brother to me. Even when his memory's shoddy, he speaks with sincerity. Go to the festival, but be careful and don't wander alone. The little beasties and I will be fine here.”

  Chapter 36

  We picked a table on a lantern-lit patio so we could watch the festivities. The uneasy looks most of the Fae gave us were enough to let us know that we were welcome to watch, but not to participate. That was fine. We had no idea what was going on and were content simply being on the edge of civilization again.

  I sat with Nador and Iefyr while Rose went to see about food and drinks. The tavernkeepers seemed more eager to accept our money than the innkeepers were, so I was sure our patronage wouldn't be an issue. This patio overlooked the city center. Nearby, a terraced fountain gurgled with silver-tinted water. Shan and Marita were nowhere in sight, but hundreds of Fae were. Most were Faeline, Faunfae, or Horsefae, but there were other types, too, and even a few non-Fae. A band of dwarves watched us with jaded interest from an adjoining tavern's patio. Three gnomes sold firecrackers and sparklers from a rolling vendor cart.

  Not far from the fountain, a pysakee sold some sort of meat on a stick from a food cart. I'd never seen a pysakee in person before, and I hoped she didn't notice my unintentional stare. She was a gangly person with an extra set of arms, an extra set of smaller eyes next the two large ones on her round, pale face, and a fine coat of steel gray hair covering most of her exposed body. She wasn't much larger than a halfling, and bore an unnerving resemblance to the jumping spiders that lived in my garden in Jadeshire. Pysakees weren't spiders, though. They were intelligent subterranean humanoids with a complex societal structure and millennia worth of poetry and literature written in a language unpronounceable and unreadable by any non-Pysakee.

  “Don't stare.” Nador kicked my knee under the table. “To be honest, pysakee terrify me. I mean, there isn't anything wrong with them and they're peaceful enough people when they're not being threatened, but damn it, look at her! She's a me-sized spider woman and she's giving people meat skewers. Can't help wondering exactly what they're made from.”

  I averted my eyes and stared at a knot in the wooden tabletop instead. “This is the first time I've seen one.”

  “Yeah, they don't come into the Jade Realm. They prefer to stay close to their mountains. This one probably lives up there.” Nador pointed beyond the lanterns at the towering mountains to the north. “I bet these mountains are full of caverns, full of goblins and pysakees and the like.”

  “They probably came here after being driven away from the Diamond Realm,” Iefyr said. He looked up as Rose joined us at the table. “Personally, I think they're fascinating. Rich history and culture, and their mathematics built the foundation for what universities teach now.”

  “Who are we talking about?” Rose asked.

  “Pysakees.”

  “Ah. When I was little I thought they were a small kind of Fae. My parents were confused about my references to Spiderfae after I met some at a festival like this. 'No such thing as Spiderfae,' they said, and I couldn't figure out why.”

  Drums and guitars cried out as a troupe of dancers began their routine on the stage at the opposite end of the square. They twirled flame-tipped batons and tossed them to each other over the heads of their gasping audience.

  “Did you find out what this celebration is about?” I asked, mesmerized by the rise and fall of juggled batons.

  “Treefire Festival,” Rose replied. She leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers behind her head. “It's kind of like the Owlfae Feast of Plenty. Autumn festival celebrating the first of the leaves changing color.” She contemplated me, the lantern light reflecting orange in her yellow eyes. “Why do you look so forlorn, Tessen?”

  “Do I?” I asked. I didn't feel forlorn. A little anxious maybe, but not forlorn.

  “My dear, you look like you've lost something.”

  “I don't know. Maybe it's because Serida's never been away from me before.” I shrugged and watched
the barmaid approach with a large tray of food and drinks. She was a Faunfae, with crescent-shaped horns curling downward from above her temples and brown, furry, goat-like legs beneath a short red skirt.

  “Don't you worry. Ragan takes wonderful care of precious things. Serida is as safe with him as she is with you.”

  “Is she? Is she safe with me?”

  The barmaid set the tray on the table. “Good evening, travelers. I've got for you a round of roast goose, pumpkin soup, caraway bread, and corn custard pie. Four pints of pomegranate beer to wash it all down with, and we're about to open a barrel of apple mead. That one'll be gone fast, so let me know now if you want some.”

  “I'll take a pint,” Iefyr said.

  “One pint for the elf. Anyone else?” the barmaid asked, an arched eyebrow raised.

  “Make that one for each,” Rose said.

  “Four apple meads.” The barmaid eyed Nador skeptically. “You sure you can hold two pints, halfling?”

  “You kidding? I can outdrink him,” Nador said, nodding toward Iefyr.

  “I'm sure you can. Elves aren't known for holding their liquor, now are they?” the barmaid said with a wink. “I'll be back later with the mead.”

  Iefyr waited until the barmaid was out of sight before releasing a nervous laugh. “She thinks I'm an elf?”

  Rose touched the back of Iefyr's hand. “No, my dear, she sees you as an elf. Orcs are rare this far north, so I doubt she's ever seen one. Wouldn't matter if she had. The innkeepers also called you elf. I think most in the Faelands consider half-elves to be elves, even though the rest of the realms don't. You and Shan are both elves here, and that's the only part of either of you that they see.”

  Iefyr took a deep drink of his beer, then clunked the pint glass on the table. “Well, this is something new. Back home, it was my kinship with my mother that others chose to erase. Here, it's my kinship with my father. It's an odd change. Makes me realize that even though I'm both, my upbringing was primarily orcan so I make a lousy elf.”

 

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