Quatrain (28 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: Quatrain
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“I won’t take it off,” I told her at least a dozen times.
“You think you won’t,” she said. “But I can guarantee you that you won’t be in Alora longer than a day before someone encourages you to remove your jewelry. I just want to make sure you can’t take all of it off.”
She had also made up dozens of potions for me and poured them in tiny glass bottles stoppered with cork. “Drink one every day,” she told me. “Even when you don’t want to. Promise me, Zara.”
I had held up one of the little vials and shook it till the amber liquid inside frothed to bubbles. My mother had trained as a wisewoman when she was my age, and she still knew more about drugs and herbs than the castle apothecary. She didn’t flaunt this knowledge much, because people weren’t always comfortable thinking of the queen as some kind of roadside witch, but her skill had come in handy more than once when Keesen and I were ill.
“What’s in it?” I asked, because she had taught me what medicines went into some of the very simplest potions.
“Domestic spices, mostly,” she said. “Cinnamon, clove, and a touch of ginger. Things to make you remember what you love about home.”
I eyed the little bottle, where the bubbles had already disappeared. “There’s more in here than spices,” I said.
She smiled. “Well, I might have added one or two other herbs. Nothing to trouble you. But drink one every day.”
I counted. There were thirty bottles. “What if I have drunk them all and I am still in Alora?” I asked.
She looked very sober. “I will mix up another batch and send them to you. We will send news as often as we can.”
“What if there is terrible news?” I whispered.
She hugged me very tightly. “Then you must be very strong.”
Is it any wonder I wept as we rode from Castle Auburn?
Is it any wonder I cried myself to sleep?
Two
M
orning slipped in among the eternal shadows of Faelyn Wood and knelt beside our fire, fanning it to fresh life. Or, no, I supposed that was Orlain feeding more sticks into the blaze and rattling the metal plates with unnecessary force.
“I’m
awake
,” I snapped and pulled myself to a sitting position. You always think sleep is going to refresh you, but it is amazing how dreadful you feel when you wake up after lying on the ground all night. At least it was summer and the ground wasn’t stiff with ice. I told myself there was something to be grateful for, at least.
“Freshen up,” Orlain said. “I’ll have breakfast ready in five minutes, and we can be on our way in twenty.”
Fine with me. I didn’t want to linger anyway.
In less than a half hour, we were back on the trail, leading our horses through the endless gloomy miles of Faelyn Wood. I can’t tell you how my heart lifted when I finally saw ahead of us a broad band of sunlight that signaled a break in the trees. I could also catch the rushing rumble of tumbling water, a sound that grew louder the closer we got to the edge of the forest.
Orlain looked back at me with what passed for a smile. “Hear that? There’s a waterfall not too far from where we’re going to cross. I’d take you to see it, for it’s truly spectacular, but I think it’s better to get you to Alora as soon as possible.”
I nodded and said, “I don’t even have the energy to
demand
that you take me there
right now
.”
He laughed, and for a few moments we traveled on in good spirits. My mood quickly turned apprehensive, however, when I got my first glimpse of the Faelyn River. “It’s
blue
,” I said stupidly, staring at the swift water that leapt and jostled by with joyous abandon. “How can it be that color?”
“They say that Alora is so close to the river that the current here is enchanted,” Orlain replied. “The water tastes the same, I know. But I always wonder if I’m drinking magic when I scoop some out and take a sip.”
I looked doubtfully from the fresh blue river and back at Orlain. “Is it safe to drink?”
He smiled. “It better be. We’re all out of water.”
“But—”
“Anyway, you silly girl, what do you think you’re going to be drinking the whole time you’re in Alora?”
“Don’t call me silly,” I said.
I could see the words hovering on his lips.
Then don’t behave foolishly.
But he didn’t say them. “Come on. Let’s fill our water bottles and then cross.”
We knelt beside that strange sapphire river and filled all our containers, pausing to lap up a few mouthfuls from our cupped hands and splash water on our faces. The morning was already warm and the cool moisture felt heavenly. I could not resist skimming my heel through the water and covering Orlain with a light spray. He turned to me, laughing, but his eyes conveyed a warning.
“Do that again and I’ll throw you in,” he threatened. “Don’t think I won’t just because your father’s king.”
Impossible to resist such a challenge. This time I splashed him with one big gout of water. “You wouldn’t,” I said.
Or started to say, since all I produced was a squeak as he scrambled to his feet, snatched me into his arms, and bounced into the racing water. I was shrieking and kicking and laughing and trying to get free and trying to cling to him as he waded deeper into the river. “Orlain! Orlain! Don’t you dare!” I cried. The water was up to his waist by now and both of us were drenched just from the spouts thrown up around his body. His grip loosened and he made one hard quarter turn as if to fling me from him, and I squealed and wrapped my arms even more securely around his neck. But he didn’t let me go. His hold tightened at the last minute and he charged forward onto the other bank, water streaming from both of us as he staggered up the incline. We were both breathless and laughing as he came to a halt, still holding me close to his chest.
“I thought you were going to throw me into the river,” I said impudently.
“I should have,” he said.
“Maybe you have some respect for royalty after all.”
“I doubt it.”
“Maybe you have some respect for
me
.”
I expected that to elicit the same reply.
I doubt it.
But he just gazed down at me a moment without speaking. The laughter still illuminated his wide face, leaving it warm and open, but his smile had disappeared. For a moment I was struck by the thought that he was much handsomer than our uncle Roderick.
“I wish you were staying in Alora, too,” I said in a low voice. “I’m a little afraid to be going by myself.”
“I would,” he said, “but every sword is needed at the castle. You’ll be safe here.”
I took a deep breath. “My mother is worried,” I said. “What if I fall under the spell of the aliora? What if I never want to come home?”
“You’ll come home anyway,” he said. “I’ll come get you.”
“What if they won’t let you into Alora?”
“I’ll find my way.”
“What if I tell you I won’t go back with you?”
Now his smile returned, smaller, sweeter. “I’ll grab you and throw you over my shoulder and haul you out of the forest no matter how much you scream and kick.”
“You said you’d throw me into the river, but you didn’t do that,” I pointed out.
“That time I only threatened. This time I promise.”
“And a promise is better than a threat?”
“Always,” he said.
“Then I believe you,” I said.
I don’t know if he would have answered. I don’t know if he would have kissed me. I thought he might—he looked like he wanted to—and I was trying to make my expression as soulful as possible, so that he would realize a kiss would be welcome. But suddenly there was a shout from a distance and the sound of boots striding through the undergrowth.
“Zara!” someone called out.
Orlain dropped my feet none too gently to the ground. “Uncle Jaxon!” I cried as I spun around to see him.
He was barreling out of the forest, a big man with wild dark hair and a full beard. His arms were already outstretched to hug me, so I ran toward him to be enfolded in a welcome embrace. Jaxon was a burly man; his hugs always had a lot of heft to them, and he was not above lifting a girl off her feet and squeezing her so tightly she couldn’t breathe.
“Zara!” he exclaimed again, releasing me just enough so that he could peer down at me. “Lord, I can’t believe how much you look like your mother. Those dark eyes and those dark curls. And that expression. Nothing but mischief in that girl from sunup till sundown.”
I giggled because “mischief” wasn’t something I associated with my mother. At least, it wasn’t ever something she encouraged in
me
. Maybe she was strict with me because she remembered what she had been like at seventeen. “How did you know I was going to be here today?” I asked.
“Your father has sent messages over the past couple of weeks,” Jaxon replied, pointing. I half turned to see the small stone cairn on this side of the river. “We weren’t sure when you’d arrive, but we’ve been watching for you.”
“I’m to stay in Alora until it’s safe for me to come home,” I said.
He nodded. “What’s the news back at the castle?”
“Dirkson’s army was half a day away when we left two days ago,” I said, my flush of happiness quickly dying. “I don’t know what’s happened since.”
“Well, I don’t have much interest in the affairs of men these days, but I remember Dirkson of Tregonia well enough to hope he does not succeed in this venture,” Jaxon replied. “And I would be loath to see any son of Bryan’s on the throne if the boy was half as stupid and willful as his father.”
“Jaxon!” I exclaimed.
My great-uncle shook his head. “He was a bad man.” He shrugged. “Dead now, and no reason to mourn.” He smiled again and patted me on the shoulder. “So! Are you ready to come to Alora to live? Rowena has your room all ready.”
Orlain spoke for the first time. “Ready to come to Alora to
visit
,” he corrected.
Jaxon laughed and turned his appraising look on my escort. “That’s what I meant,” he assured him. “You’re Roderick’s nephew, aren’t you? I think I’ve encountered you at Halsing Manor when I was visiting my niece.”
“I am. You have.”
Jaxon shook his hand and seemed far more pleased with Orlain than Orlain seemed with him. “Thank you for taking such good care of Zara on the trip here. We will watch out for her from now on.”
It was clearly a dismissal, but Orlain held his ground. “Her mother has asked that I serve as her envoy from time to time, bringing news to the princess,” he said.
“Excellent,” Jaxon said heartily. “You can leave messages in the cairn. Someone checks it every couple of days.”
“I will not want to leave a message,” Orlain said calmly. “I will wish to speak with Zara directly.”
I had to think about it for a moment. Was that the first time during this whole trip that Orlain had used my name instead of calling me “princess”? Maybe.
Orlain was still speaking. “How will I accomplish that? Will you take me deeper into the forest so that I know where the boundaries of Alora lie? Is there a landmark I can look for that will let me know I am close?”
Jaxon eyed him consideringly. “You could always wait beside the cairn until someone spots you and brings Zara to see you,” he suggested.
“I would rather have more direct access,” Orlain replied.
“Landmarks are rare here in the forest,” Jaxon said. “It would be hard to describe our route to you.”
“Then I will have to travel with you today so I can find Alora when I return.”
“The aliora have not always had a happy history with men,” Jaxon said in a regretful voice. “They are not eager to lead humans to their doorways.”
“I’m sure they’re not,” Orlain replied. “I will try not to intrude upon their solitude. I am not interested in Alora or its residents. All I care about is Zara and her well-being.”
Jaxon burst out laughing. “If you spent half a day with the aliora, you
would
be interested in them!” he said. “Come with us, then, just to the edge of the kingdom. I am afraid I cannot invite you any nearer than that.”
Orlain nodded. “Let me check on the horses and get the princess’s bundles.” He paused to give me a brief, very serious look. “Wait for me while I cross the river and come back.”
I nodded dumbly. I had stood mute during this whole exchange, amazed at the animosity bubbling beneath their civil words. Or maybe the animosity was just coming from Orlain, who had as good as said out loud that he didn’t trust Uncle Jaxon.
That was almost as astonishing as the idea that Orlain cared enough about
me
to bother distrusting Jaxon at all.
Orlain plunged back into the river, moving easily against the punishing current. Jaxon glanced down at me and winked.
“What do you say? Shall we run off while he’s still in the water?”
I wasn’t entirely certain he was joking. “All my things are with the horses,” I said.
“Everything you need you can find in Alora,” he said.
Not my potions, I thought. Not the note that Keesen had thrust into my hands right before he climbed into the coach.
I love you Zara
was all it said in Keesen’s broad, almost illegible writing. “My life is so strange already,” I said in a soft voice. “I will need some familiar things around me.”
“And even the familiar seems strange in Alora,” Jaxon said. “We’ll wait for him.”
Orlain was back with all speed, my saddlebags over his shoulder, and we set out once more into the forest. The woods were just as dark and shadowy on this side of the Faelyn River, but the gloom didn’t seem so deep. Maybe that was due to the proximity of Alora’s magic. Maybe it was due to my excitement at finally coming to the end of the journey. Maybe it was due to the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about Orlain. Who had held me so tightly as we crossed the river and who had argued with my uncle Jaxon on my behalf.
Was it possible he didn’t hate me after all?

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