Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4) (14 page)

Cirang lifted one eyebrow at her as she took the blade. “I’m not going to kill myself.” She began cutting slices of cheese. “That would be mad.”

They ate bread, cheese, apples, and a bit of dried meat, washing it down with water. Every swallow made Gavin remark that he wished it were ale.

“How long will you be gone?” Daia asked.

“Maybe a half hour, if Bahnna’s there,” he said. “Longer if she’s not. Don’t be alarmed if I’m gone a couple hours.” He dug into his coin pouch for his ring of binding, and Daia did the same. The rings would enable him to find her mystical conduit when he was in the other realm. They put their rings on and signaled with a nod to the other they were ready.

“Keep an eye on Golam this time, will you?” he asked with a grin.

“Cirang, that’s your job,” Daia said.

Gavin closed his eyes and watched mystical, colored dots whirl like snow in a blizzard. He grasped Daia’s orange rope, the source of her conduit power. The snow spun faster, forming a spinning blue cyclone. After a moment, it changed to indigo and then to violet. It was the green one he wanted, the middle one in the sequence. He expected it to return to red and start the cycle over, but it turned to white first.

“White isn’t in the rainbow,” he said, realizing that there were actually eight states of the vortex, not seven. “Why is there a white?”

“I presume you’re not talking to us again,” Daia said.

Gavin chuckled. “No, sorry.”

“Don’t enter the white doorway, Emtor,” the Guardians said.

“Why not? What is it?” He wondered what would happen if he stuck his head through to see what was on the other side.

“White is the realm of all existence, where the Is first manifested, where all beings lived together before the event that separated the world into seven distinct realms. Your people know this event as the Sacrifice.”

Huh,
he thought. He’d always believed the Sacrifice was a fairytale that people told themselves to justify their belief in a deity like Asti-nayas. “Sounds interesting,” he replied, watching the colors change again. When it turned to white, he stretched one hand towards it, curious. “Why can’t I go in? It seems peaceful enough.”

“Until the realms are reunited into the white, the essence cannot abide it. Because you would exist in all realms at once, your essence would be torn apart and your body would die.”

That was explanation enough for him. He waited for the vortex to turn green, hitched the knapsack carrying the Nal Disi up higher on his shoulder, and stepped through.

As usual when he moved between realms, his stomach churned and a wave of dizziness overpowered him as though a wind had swept through his insides and turned his soul around. He reached for a nearby tree to steady himself while the world slowed its spinning. When the dizziness faded, he looked around to get his bearings.

The stream itself was the same as in his own realm, but he was surrounded by trees and shrubs whose deep teal green was unlike anything he’d seen in the forests of Thendylath. A creature, brown and furry, sat chittering in the tree he’d leaned on, taking an occasional step down the trunk towards him. It was about the size of a squirrel but with a rounder face and eyes in front. He watched it curiously, amazed at its fearlessness. It was about two feet from his hand when he remembered that in his own realm, only predators had both eyes in front. He yanked his hand back, and the creature startled, baring fangs that looked more like dogs’ teeth than squirrels.

“Whoa,” he said, taking a step backwards. “Calm yourself, little buck. I’m leaving.”

The familiar sound of whistles and clicks carried towards him. He turned his face into the breeze and squinted. A clearing downstream, where there had once been the remains of a village, now bustled with life. He started towards it, hoping this was where his friends Bahn and Bahnna lived. Though the ground and the buildings were still blackened as before, the furry, tan inhabitants seemed to pay it no mind as they went about their business carrying things and talking and walking to and fro.

He made his way to the village. As he neared, an Elyle noticed him and pointed. Though the Elyle made only whistles and clicks, in his mind, Gavin heard him shout, “The Wayfarer! The Wayfarer has returned!”

Other Elyle stopped what they were doing to stare, eyes wide and mouths agape. The excited whistles and clicks came too fast for Gavin to understand them, but he picked out the words “wayfarer,” “hero,” and “savior” as the ones most commonly uttered. The Elyle dropped everything and rushed him. From all sides, hands patted and touched him, while the Elyle welcomed and thanked him in their whistling, clicking language, which he only understood because of his inherited magic. They had faces that were more cat-like than human, short golden-brown fur, and triangular ears that stood up straight on top of their heads. Most were nearly Gavin’s height, though a few stood an inch or two taller with long, slender limbs, and all had the gentle haze of the zhi-bent. Standing among these beings was like nothing he’d ever experienced, like floating in a sea of love and compassion. He wondered what had happened to the kho-bent of their kind.

“My thanks,” he said. “You’re very kind. Thank you. I’m looking for Bahn. Does he live in this village?”

“Yes, Emtor,” many voices said at once. They all gazed at him with dancing green eyes.

“He lives among us.”

“We know Bahn.”

“He’s our friend.”

One spoke to him more authoritatively than the others, a female. “Bahn lives among us, as does his complement, Bahnna. Someone please find Bahn and request his presence.”

“He’s out foraging,” someone said.

Hell.
Gavin hoped that didn’t mean he had to speak directly with Bahnna. Maybe another of the zhi-bent Elyle could talk to her for him.

“Please be our guest in the dining hall,” the leader said. “We wish to honor you for your heroic deeds. I’m Tarra, the clan governor.”

He didn’t know how to politely decline without offending them, but he didn’t want to sit around while they sang his praises, either. “I’ve got an emergency in my own realm that I need help with, so I’m afraid I can’t stay long.”

“He comes to us for help!” someone said. The excited chatter began anew.

“We’ll be honored to help you, Emtor,” Tarra said. “What assistance can we offer?”

“Last time I was in your realm, Bahnna promised to make a rune for me. I need that rune now.”

“Does anyone know where Bahnna is?” Tarra asked the others.

“My complement is with her now,” said another Elyle, a short female whose left ear was scarred and disfigured. “He says Bahnna will meet you at the well in the village square.”

Gavin admired their ability to communicate with their complements through thought. There were many times he wished he could do the same.

“This way, if you please,” Tarra said.

They started to walk towards the village center, but the enthusiastic Elyle didn’t give him any more space to walk, and he was constantly stepping on someone’s heel or having his own heels stepped on from behind. All the while, hands patted and rubbed him all over. And he thought walking around Ambryce without a disguise was hard. As they neared the well, the crowd began to dissipate, returning to their duties without a word. He got the impression the zhi-bent Elyle didn’t want to approach the two kho-bent waiting there.

Gavin felt the muscles in his shoulders and neck tense as anger heated the blood in his veins. Two of them. He didn’t know whether he had enough willpower to deal with two at one time. If only Bahn were here, or the other Elyle’s complement. “Tell your friend to leave us,” he said with a growl in his voice. His body trembled with loathing and the instinct to fight or flee. If he didn’t get away from them soon, he’d rattle his own teeth loose. “Do it now.”

Bahnna glanced at her companion and dipped her head. The other Elyle, a male, shot Gavin a red-eyed glare brimming with hatred, but he left as instructed. “Have you come back to hear me sing?” Bahnna asked.

Gavin clenched his fists as if to take his will in hand. “I did not.” Bahnna ran her eyes slowly over his body as she trilled an irritating and raunchy cackle that made his skin crawl.
Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt her. “
Last time I was here, you promised to make me another rune,” he said.

“I remember no such promise,
Uckod,”
she said as she walked slowly around him while continuing to caress him with her eyes.

He felt her touch on his shoulders like a deathly hand crawling from its grave, and he stepped out of her reach, spinning to face her again. “Don’t touch me. Where’s Bahn? He’ll remember how I saved your life and his. He was grateful. Apparently you’d rather be rotting on the ground.”

“You threaten me?” Her eye color changed from purple to red, and her body seemed to hunch as if she were preparing to attack.

Aldras Gar,
his sword whispered.

Chapter 17

Feanna awoke to find her room bright with sunshine. It was good to sleep once again in her own bed, and it was empty too. She had sprawled across it during the night, rumpling the bedclothes. It was the first decent night’s sleep she’d had in nearly four weeks. She climbed out of bed and padded to the private bathing room. There, in the middle of the floor, sat her tub, cold and empty. Eriska was not in sight.

That tramp was probably busy servicing the stable boy when she should have been preparing her queen’s bath. What she needed was a whipping. She went through the sitting room to the door, but found it locked. With both fists, she pounded on it. “Open this door. Open it right now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” came a muffled reply.

A key rattled in the lock, and the door opened. The guard, a tall redhead, stepped aside, and Eriska swept in, carrying a tray of fruit and cream. “Good morning, my queen. I wasn’t sure you were awake yet, and so I’ve only brought fruit, but I’ll have hot coffee for you in a moment.”

Feanna didn’t know whether she was more annoyed that she’d been wrong about Eriska’s whereabouts or that she was still a prisoner in her own home. “I’ll get it myself. Fetch my robe.”

“I’m afraid you’re confined to your rooms,” the guard said. She was a crooked-faced wench with a thick neck and broad hands. A scar ran through one bushy eyebrow and another across her bottom lip. Maybe she was actually a man with tits.

“Who do you think you are?” She slid her arms into the robe Eriska held open for her.

“Ragetha, my queen. We’ve met before.”

Feanna’s anger boiled over. She picked up a bowl and flung it, but the guard was too quick and ducked. “Did I ask you if we’ve met before?”

“No, Your Majesty. I apologize.”

“That’s right. I’m the queen. Who dares to issue an order to confine me?”

Eriska bent to pick up the broken shards of porcelain.

“King Gavin, Your Majesty. He said you...” Ragetha pressed her lips together, as if to stop her mouth from acting of its own accord.

Feanna smiled to disarm her, but the smile felt like plaster on her face. “He said I what?”

“You aren’t yourself. He said you’re unwell and that your... your disposition has declined.”

She looked at her handmaiden picking up shards of porcelain from the floor and realized that she’d played the situation wrong. She’d been playing it wrong since she arrived. If Gavin had warned them that she was a wildcat, then she would act the sweet kitten. If he’d told them she was rude and foul-mouthed, she would be the epitome of politeness and virtue. The key to her freedom was to make him look the fool.

With one hand on her chest, she gave a quick gasp. “Oh, goodness. Perhaps he’s right. I’ve been suffering from sadness and ill humor ever since I drank the blessed water at the temple. Most of the time, I don’t realize what I’m doing. I’m sorry, Ragetha. I know you’re following orders. You’re a loyal battler, and I thank you for that.”

Eriska stood, holding the shards in a sling made from her apron, and scurried away.

“Will you be all right, Your Majesty?” the guard asked gently.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, but I need you now more than ever. If you see a foul mood come over me, perhaps a signal from you that I’ve lost my way again will bring me back to my senses.”

“What kind of signal?”

“A subtle gesture. Perhaps you can point to your eye, like this.” Feanna put one finger to the outside corner of her eye near her temple.

Ragetha mimicked the action, and Feanna patted her arm.

Edan Dawnpiper stepped over the remaining bits of broken porcelain and into her room. “What’s happened here? Are you all right, Your Majesty?”

“A mishap with a bowl. Eriska’s cleaning it up.” Feanna pulled her robe closed and slid her feet into a pair of slippers.

“I see. I trust you slept well?”

“Very well. Thank you for asking. A good night’s rest in my own bed has done wonders.”

Edan cocked his head slightly. “I’m pleased to hear it. I see I’ve interrupted your meal.”

“Not at all,” she said. “It’s only just arrived. Would you care to join me?”