Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) (12 page)

BOOK: Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10)
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“Is that why you left him and Nyx contacted me to give you a ride?”

The gypsy tenses immediately and slips under the water where she remains for a few minutes. She only comes up when she sees a long fork hovering over the water, the piece of pancake on the end calling to her growling stomach. Sheepishly taking her former position, she accepts the food and stretches to the table, her nimble fingers grabbing one of the plates. Bracing her feet on the far end of the basin, Sari locks her legs into a solid ledge for the food while she gobbles up the warm meal. She barely notices when Kira resumes massaging her scalp until the other woman’s nimble finger grazes her cheek to move an errant strand of hair. The gentle touch puts the gypsy at ease and she runs her thumb around the plate to gather the remaining maple syrup.

“I chose to go with Delvin because I needed time away from Luke,” Sari claims when she is done eating. Putting the plate back on the table, she churns and reheats the water to help get the thick layer of grime off her body. “I realized that I was losing myself in my relationship with him. At first being with him was the main thing that kept me sane and happy after all of my hardships. Feeling loved gave me the strength to continue fighting at the beginning. The problem is that I never let it go when I should have. This hurt you and Luke, but I think it did more damage to me. You two have each other while I end up alone again. Coming from a big clan, I’m not used to that and remaining by Luke’s side meant I’d never try to get used to it. He’d always be a crutch for me to fall back on either by his actions or mine. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it does because we all go through it at some point. You’re struggling to find your identity,” Kira replies as she retrieves her own breakfast. Seeing the hungry stare on her companion’s face, she hands over two pieces of bacon. “Don’t be a glutton. This is the last of my personal food supply. After this meal, we’re spending the rest of the journey eating what the crew gets. Nothing fancy since everything has to last.”

“So what was your search for identity like?” Sari asks with the food in her mouth. Her tongue moves quickly to catch a crumb that is about to fall from her lip. “By the way, do you want a turn in the bath?”

“You can have a few more minutes in there,” the heiress responds while pouring herself a glass of water. She swirls the clear liquid and takes a sip, the pause helping to maintain her composure. “I’m still on my search. After everything that’s happened to me, I’ve been examining my past actions. It may sound strange, but I feel like I’m remembering previous lives that I barely understand. When I was younger, I acted defiantly until I realized it made more sense to play the part of a spoiled noble. It didn’t feel natural, but it helped me make friends and get things that I wanted. Honestly, I’m not really sure if it made me happy. After that, I tried to be a warrior like Luke and my other new friends. It didn’t fit with my old façade, but I started feeling better about myself. Then everything got confusing again because I convinced Luke to accept my traditions and never expected someone like you to appear. The old stories tell of adventurers having one time flings with barmaids in an attempt to cure their loneliness. Those were stuck in my head once I knew he was going on a journey without me. I really made a mess of things and I’m still trying to sort through my reasons. Every time I look back on the situation, I see a different rationale for what I did. As for my current identity, I think I’m at a point where all of my masks are being torn to pieces and stitched into one. I need to be strong like a warrior, smart like a merchant, maybe a little pompous like a noble, and defiant like I was as a child. I eventually want to be a wife and a mother too.”

“Perhaps it’s a quest that never ends.”

“I’ve thought that many times. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“So I have to put my pieces back together.”

“You may find it easier than me considering your destiny.”

Sari rises out of the basin and dries off by sending the water covering her body back into the ocean. Another wave of her hand removes the filth from the bath, leaving it as clean as when it was first made. She takes a thick robe off a nearby hook, the mottled pink coloring making her think it was a vibrant red long ago. Taking the plate from Kira, she gestures toward the tub and turns away to let the heiress strip. When she hears the other woman step into the bath, Sari takes the shampoo bottle that has the least amount of liquid inside. The scent of honey fills the room as she tries to imitate Kira’s scalp massage method, but the gypsy is unable to find the right amount of pressure. Most of the time it feels like she is trying to scratch her companion’s skin off the bone, which causes a rapid flood of apologies. Giving up, Sari settles for using the water to give the bronze-skinned heiress a full-body massage.

“I might take you up on your earlier offer after this,” Kira groans as all of her sore muscles relax. She gropes at the perfume table for her drink, but finds it nearly impossible to keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. “I’m sorry for being mean to you, Sari. It was uncalled for considering I’m more at fault for the situation than you and Luke. All of us need to act like adults and find a way to put this behind us. We should be friends.”

“That we should,” Sari replies while nervously licking her lips. She leans closer to the basin and swallows the lump in her throat, the discomfort returning before she can speak. “I have a confession. Another reason I left Luke was because I’ve been feeling guilty for a while. You see, when facing a phantom of you during my coma, it teased me about using love spells. I denied it, of course. Then it said I wasn’t aware of what I did in my sleep.” The gypsy pauses when she sees Kira balling her fists beneath the water. “I checked Luke’s aura when I woke up and we were alone. The phantom was right and I’d been enchanting him in my sleep because I was terrified of being abandoned. I removed the spell and have checked him every other morning to make sure I didn’t put it back. Luke doesn’t know, so please keep this between us. I don’t want him to think I intentionally tried to sabotage his relationship with you, which was never my intent. The whole thing was an accident and I’m really sorry it happened. Guess I should be entirely honest and let everything out now. I’m also jealous and a little angry because it was when I dropped the love spell that Luke and I drifted back toward friendship. I guess I wasn’t really your rival to begin with.”

Water spills out of the basin as Kira struggles to turn around and face the shame-faced gypsy. Part of her wants to throw a punch, but the thought is so fleeting that she is not even sure she had it in the first place. All she sees is a scared and lonely girl that could have been her if their paths had gone in opposite directions. Kira is fairly certain she would have attempted a love potion during her darkest periods even though she knows it would be a horrible decision. The idea that heartache could make her act against her nature helps erode the anger and jealousy she harbors toward the blue-haired champion. Feeling shy and not wanting to expose herself, the heiress takes Sari’s hands and eases her into a crouch. The awkward hug between them nearly tips the basin over, some of the water sloshing onto the gypsy’s robe.

“Thank you, Sari,” Kira whispers, refusing to let go of the hug. She shivers as an ocean breeze comes through the open porthole and caresses her bare shoulders. “You could have kept the love spells going and stolen Luke from me, which is something I always feared. Yes, I’m angry that it happened, but you didn’t mean to enchant him. You stopped yourself and proved that you really are a good person. That tells me more about you than anything else I’ve ever learned about you and it should do the same to you. Honestly, now I feel guilty about being with him.”

Sari cannot stop herself from nervously joking, “Break up with him and I’ll dart in for the prize, princess.”

“Don’t make me chain you to the crow’s nest, gypsy,” Kira replies with a chuckle. She pulls away from her friend and gets out of the basin to search the room for a towel. “I guess this makes us even. If you remember, I outfitted myself with enchanted gear designed to kill you. That’s not counting the curse I purchased from a Pain Priest. It would have removed all of your hair and given you a few days of agonizing cramps. Don’t worry. I used it on a particularly nasty merchant whose crimes you really don’t want to know about.”

“I suddenly fear you more than Baron Kernaghan,” the gypsy admits, removing the robe and handing it to the shivering heiress. She goes to her bag to retrieve clean clothes and a sturdy brush for her hair, the chilly wind having only a minor effect on her. “So we’re going to put everything behind us and try to be friends. It won’t be easy, especially when you two get married. Don’t be surprised if I drink a lot and cause some mischief during the party. Better have someone or something to distract me.”

“That’s why I’m going to have you be one of my attendants.”

“What?”

The heiress tightens the robe and takes the gypsy by the shoulder, her eyes betraying a sliver of apprehension. “It’s something I just decided. You may not realize it, Sari, but you’ve done a lot to help me and Luke. Not only as a couple, but as people. He does love you and that has made him stronger. You being my rival helped me mature and learn to treasure what I have. Also I learned that traditions don’t always work and sometimes you have to toss them aside to fight for what you want. So thank you for being a thorn in my side.”

“Then I promise to keep you on your toes. Not that I’m going after Luke again, but I don’t want you getting soft and lazy,” Sari replies with a playful smirk. She scratches her head and opens her mouth a few times before finally blurting out a gnawing question. “Do I still get my one kiss with him? You did promise.”

“You have until I marry him,” Kira replies before sitting at the table and preparing another plate of food. A forkful of eggs is nearly at her mouth before she stops and glances at the whistling gypsy. “Not at the wedding either. That would be really hard to explain, especially to those who don’t understand either of our cultures. Now grab that chair from the corner and help me finish this breakfast.”

Feeling like a barbed chain has been removed from her heart, Sari bounds across the room to get the seat. With a flick of her wrist, she sends the water in the tub streaming out the porthole before making herself comfortable. The pair spend the entire day eating, drinking, and laughing within the small stateroom. By the time Delvin arrives to invite them to dinner with the crew, the two women are asleep on a bed wearing each other’s clothes. To his surprise there are no empty decanters and the only thing he smells is vanilla, water lilies, and honey.

*****

“Come in!” Trinity shouts when she hears someone timidly knock on the door of the shack she is borrowing. The Queen attempts to stand from a pile of cushions, but finds her legs are too sore and the baby’s position is throwing her off-balance. “You have to open the door yourself. I’m not able to move right now.”

The young woman who steps inside the cluttered, one-room structure keeps her head down as she falls to one knee. Her hair is a rare dark purple, which Trinity guesses is the reason the skinny chaos elf has been trained as a priestess of Ambrosine. An amber glow around the holy woman’s blue eyes is a sign of their patron deity, which is bestowed on her more powerful followers after they survive their trials. To see the honor given to someone so young brings the channeler a flicker of hope that good news is on the horizon. The timid guest eventually stands to her full height, but remains focused on the floor where her bare feet tap nervously on the rough stone.

“My apologies, your highness, but I have a message,” the young woman whispers, her hands opening and closing into fists. She takes a deep breath and tries to look at her beloved leader, but her head keeps rising until she sees the wooden ceiling. “This is in regards to you amassing an army, putting your heir in danger, and trusting the Baron. I know it’s not my place to speak of such things since I only recently became an official priestess. Yet I feel it would be shameful to keep this message from you.”

“Nervous little thing, aren’t you?” Trinity teases before using several invisible hands of wind to help her sit up. The priestess is immediately at her side to offer a glass of water and, if necessary, catch her beloved Queen. “Thank you . . . Sebave. I heard about you from your teacher. She said you’re gifted with holy magic and you practically absorb the old tomes. You’ve done a great job healing our people and you get stronger every day.”

“Thank you for your praise, your highness.”

“I’m happy to finally put a face to the rumors. What is your message?”

“Let me show you, Queen Trinity.”

Sebave guides the other woman to a more comfortable chair before walking to the middle of the shack. A dull chanting rolls from her throat and the ethereal glow around her eyes wraps around her entire head. The priestess’s long, purple hair shimmers as it rises into a fan formation and reveals an image of Shayd. The picture moves to show bodies scattered about the landscape, each one the distinctive cobalt blue of a chaos elf. The rivers are red with blood and hordes of undead can be seen feasting on the corpses as the vision moves toward a plateau located in the center of the continent. Standing beneath a violent storm, Baron Kernaghan admires his handiwork and picks up Trinity’s mangled body. He tosses the remains to a pack of ghouls before his cloak is blown off his other arm by a guest of wind. Cradled against his chest is a small bundle of blankets that cries and squirms, each outburst sending combat spells into the clouds. With a blood-curdling screech from the baby, the image fades away and Sebave’s hair falls flat against her body.

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