Song of the Sea Spirit: An epic fantasy novel (The Mindstream Chronicles) (41 page)

“You’re a sweetheart,” she told it. “Would you be willing to take me to Three Waters? It’s not far from here. They’ll feed us and give us a nice, dry place to sleep. What do you say?”

She went to the horse’s left side and grabbed hold of the saddle. When it didn’t balk, she heaved her foot up, almost too weak to get it into the stirrup, and then with a couple of bounces on her right foot to get some momentum, she pushed herself up and hauled her weary body over the horse’s back. Gasping for breath, she grabbed her right pants leg and pulled it over. Finally, exhausted from the effort, she was in the saddle.

“Come on, horse,” she said over her shoulder. “You come, too.” Though the brown horse didn’t trot right up, it did follow her around the burning town and over the land bridge.

On the road, she found two of the fallen assassins, but the one with the mouse ears was gone. Just like Boden. Briefly, she wondered whether it had anything to do with the fact that she’d been observing them at the moment of their deaths.

Too exhausted, hungry, and melancholy to think about the significance of it, she looked around for the other three horses.

They were snacking on leaves and grass not far from the road, and they looked up when Jora approached on the back of the skewbald. She clicked her tongue and beckoned them, and they fell into a loose line behind her. Good. At least they would be cared for and put to good use rather than falling prey to a cougar.

The sun, now high overhead, beat down relentlessly on her head and face. Her hair was starting to grow back, but it would be a long time yet before it was long enough to comb. She dozed in the saddle, startling to wakefulness when she caught herself falling.

After a few hours on the road, she made out the shaded forms of two riders approaching. Or perhaps there were four. Her eyes had trouble focusing. She blinked hard a few times, trying to see who they were, but her mind was too numb, her body too weary.

“Hail there,” one said.

“Help,” she said, though it came out in a whisper.

“Are you a horse trader?” he asked. “Looks like your... Miss, are you all right?”

Jora felt herself falling. The next thing she knew, two faces were hovering over her. One of them had Gunnar’s gray eyes. Home. She was home, and everyone was safe. It was all a terrible nightmare. “Kaild.”

“You’re from Kaild?” one man asked.

“She looks a bit like one of Kayla Lanseri’s girls,” said the one with Gunnar’s eyes. “Jora, I think. Or is this Cacie?”

“We saw the fire. Is everyone all right?”

Fire. The horrible nightmare became a memory once again. Jora couldn’t find the strength or words to tell them what had happened. All she could manage was a quiet, “Dead.”

The two men shared a horrified look.

“Let’s get her back to town,” said Gunnar’s Eyes.

She dreamed of her family and friends, running and screaming through the burning town, their clothes on fire and blood pouring from the gashes in their necks. She bolted upright with a scream in her throat, her face wet with tears.

“There, there. You’re all right now,” said a brunette with a round face and kind eyes. “You’re safe. Jora, right? Jora Lanseri? Hebb wasn’t sure he recognized you without your braids, but Danna thought it was you.”

Jora nodded, looking around. She was in a darkened room with a candle burning on a nearby table. There was a cup of water and a pitcher, too, and she licked her lips, summoning the strength to ask for a sip.

“Let me get that for you,” the woman said, reaching for the cup. She held it to Jora’s mouth and tipped it while Jora guzzled down the refreshing water, cupping her own hands around the woman’s. “I’m Mira Kasuse, a third cousin to your mama, Kayla. Guess that makes us third cousins once removed. You’ve a sister, don’t you? Gracie, is it?” She refilled the cup halfway and handed it to Jora.

“Cacie,” Jora corrected between sips. “But she’s...” Dead. They were all dead. “Gunnar’s here?” she asked, remembering his eyes. Or had that been a dream?

“Gunnar Sayeg?” Mira asked. “He’s Kaild’s drill master, isn’t he? He’s not here, no. Why would he be?”

Jora shook her head and scooted back so she could lean back and still sit upright. “I thought I saw him before I passed out.”

“Here, let me fix your pillows.” Mira positioned the pillows behind Jora’s back. “There you are. No, it was Hebb who carried you in here. Hebb Sayeg. I suppose he might look enough like Gunnar to trick a weary mind. Don’t know their relation but surely a cousin. Sayeg isn’t that common a name. Do you think you can take a bit of soup?”

Jora nodded gratefully, only then realizing that she’d been bathed and dressed in a sleeping gown. “Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you.”

Mira patted her arm and gave it a squeeze before standing. “They’ve kept it warm for you in the kitchen. Rayja might’ve saved you some beef and bread, too. I’ll bring what I can find.”

“You’re so kind. Thank you,” Jora said.

As soon as Mira left through the curtained doorway, Jora covered her face in her hands and cried. The people of Three Waters weren’t so different from the people of Kaild, and many shared distant relatives. Had a woman of Three Waters wandered into Kaild, sunburned and starving, she’d have been cared for, as Jora was now. Why weren’t people in Jolver kind to one another? Why were they so hateful, killing and stealing and making up lies?

“Here you are, dear,” Mira said. She backed into the room carrying a tray and let the curtain fall away when she turned. “Found you a bit of Rayja’s wonderful cabbage, too, though I think the meat’s what’ll get you on your feet the fastest. The pea soup is tasty and might go down easier. Why not try a bit of that first?”

Jora nodded, eager to dig into the meal. Mira set the tray across Jora’s lap. Beside the plate was a napkin with embroidered edges, and beside the spoon a yellow rose. She picked it up and breathed in its delicate scent. How could something so beautiful live in a world so ugly?

“Thought it might give you a smile. You look like you could use one.”

Jora nodded, fighting back more tears. “It—” Her voice caught in her throat, and she cleared it. “It’s lovely. Everything is lovely, and it smells delicious.”

“I’ll leave you to eat in peace,” Mira said, refilling the cup of water on the table. “If you need anything, holler. I won’t be far.” She smiled and took the empty pitcher with her when she left the room.

Jora picked up the chunk of beef with her left hand and tore off a mouthful. She barely chewed it, barely tasted it, before taking another bite. Never had she been so ravenous.

It occurred to her that an unchewed meal dumped into her stomach after going days without food might cause her body to rebel. The last thing she wanted was to throw it all back up before her body had a chance to leech nourishment from it. And she needed the replenishment badly.

She sipped her water, took a few spoonfuls of the soup, and forced herself to slow down, though the images in her head from the attack on Kaild made it impossible to enjoy the food.

Jora slept through the night and halfway through the morning. Though she was plagued by bad dreams, the rest and the meal had done her good. When she awoke, she felt hungry but ready to face the day. Her clothes, clean and folded, sat on the stool beside the bed, and she changed into them, wincing at the soreness in her muscles.

She staggered out of her room and discovered she’d spent the night in a convalescence inn. Most of the others there were elderly people unable to stand or walk, but the medics also tended a couple of children with fevers and a man who’d lost his foot to a shark while hunting for clams. A couple dozen people of Three Waters joined her for a late breakfast in a pleasant, grassy courtyard shaded by a mature oak. They gathered around to get a look at the almost bald woman from Kaild who’d wandered into their lives in such poor condition. She wasn’t sure yet what she would do or where she would go. Perhaps, if they were willing, she could settle here, though she would have to be careful about using the Mindstream to avoid being detected.

A woman approached and extended her hand. “I’m Lylah, lead councilwoman for Three Waters. May I?”

Jora nodded. She’d heard the woman’s name mentioned throughout the years. The people of Kaild had much respect for her. “I can’t thank you enough for your generous hospitality.”

Lylah sat down at the table across from her. “Of course, dear. We do for our neighbors, though we’d like to hear your story. What brought you here to us, Jora Lanseri of Kaild?”

“Some of the boys playing at the shore yesterday said they saw smoke rising in the distance,” said Hebb, the man who had Gunnar’s eyes. “We thought it was a forest fire until we met you on the road.”

Jora nodded. She clasped her hands together tightly, trying to both steel herself to deliver the tragic news and to assure herself that she was among friends. “Five assassins arrived in Kaild and murdered everyone during the night.”

Everyone gasped in shock.

“Everyone?” asked Danna, a woman Jora had known years earlier. Born and raised in Kaild, she’d left several years ago to marry a man her brother had served with in the Legion.

Jora nodded. Danna’s siblings had perished, as well as her parents and childhood friends. She felt Danna’s loss as she felt her own: with burning eyes brimming with tears.

“How do you know this? Did you see them?” Lylah asked.

“I witnessed it.” Jora gave a brief summary of the events from the time she beached the dinghy to her escape around the shoal. She left out Sundancer’s role. Having to explain how she was able to communicate with a dolphin would take more time, and she didn’t want to diverge from what was the most important topic right now: the slaughter of two thousand innocent people. “Then they set fire to the buildings. I tried to look for survivors, maybe someone who hadn’t died of their wounds, but the smoke was too thick. I couldn’t get close enough.”

“How did you escape?” Hebb asked.

“I got there after the assassins did. They didn’t know I was there, or I wouldn’t have.”

“Are you a Truth Sayer?” someone asked. “Your hair...”

Jora ran a hand over her tender scalp, feeling the tiny nubs of hair growing back. “I was.” Though she wanted to tell them everything, to reveal the Legion’s awful secret, she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she knew for certain that the knowledge wouldn’t bring Kaild’s fate down upon the people of Three Waters, too.

“Why would someone issue a cull order on Kaild?” one of the older men asked. “Was it the Justice Bureau?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but I’m going to find out.”

“What happened to you?” Hebb asked. “What need did you have to return to Kaild?”

“I needed the advice of my parents and the town council. I can’t say more quite yet. I’d only put you all in danger if I did, but one day, I’ll come back and tell you everything.”

Except for Lylah, they looked at each other with wide-eyed wariness. The councilwoman studied Jora with a steady gaze.

“Whose horses were those you arrived with?” Lylah asked.

The question was bound to be asked, though she’d hoped not to have to explain about Po Teng. “The assassins’. I slew them all as they were leaving.” Though that wasn’t the full truth of it, she had issued the command to kill them, and the one who issued the command was the one most responsible for the deed.

“You?” one man asked. He snorted and crossed his arms. “You could barely sit astride when Hebb and Turro found you. How did you kill five skilled assassins?”

“Five assassins who murdered an entire town,” Lylah added.

“Five men who first bested Kaild’s guard,” said another man.

Jora raised her hands to calm the arguments. “I admit, I didn’t do the deed myself. I had help. I have a powerful ally.”

“Who’s this ally? And where is he now?”

From the south she heard shouting. Someone screamed. Everyone who’d gathered around Jora now turned to the source of the scream, some shooting to their feet, all gaping as four mail-clad enforcers rode into the town center on spirited horses, swords at ready. One was spattered with blood.

“Jora Lanseri,” called the one in front. He had thick black eyebrows and a hawkish nose. “Come with us.”

Her entire body trembled as she stood. She didn’t want to kill anyone else, but she didn’t think she would be able to convince them to leave peacefully.

“Jora Lanseri,” the hawk-nosed enforcer said, “show yourself now.”

“What do you want with her?” Lylah asked. “Are you responsible for what happened in Kaild?”

“This is none of your concern, woman,” Hawk Nose said.

“It is when you barge into my town and slay my guards to arrest my neighbor.”

A feeling of dread gripped Jora. “No,” she said, touching Lylah’s arm. She didn’t want to see Lylah struck down for standing up for her. “I’m here. I’ll come with you. Just allow me to gather my belongings.”

“No belongings,” Hawk Nose said, turning his cold eyes upon her.

One of his fellows leaned toward him and whispered something.

“The books. You have them?”

Jora nodded. “They’re with my clothes.”