‘I’m not deceiving anyone,’
I replied moodily.
‘I told you human relationships aren’t as straightforward as animal relationships.’
Rekala continued to watch my interaction with Lira as the day went by. When it came time to stop and set up camp that afternoon Lira walked past Rekala on her way to the river and the icetiger whine-growled deep in her throat. Lira recoiled and looked at me with wide-eyes.
‘Rekala’s just jealous,’ I reassured her.
Lira pursed her lips and continued on her way. Rekala padded to my side, chuffed and bunted her head against my thigh.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked her. ‘Hasn’t Lira been through enough already?’
Rekala yowled in a throaty way and flattened her ears. Sarlice, who had been observing this from Duria’s back, dismounted and walked her horse over to me so she could speak without Lira overhearing. ‘Perhaps you and Rekala should take a walk alone. Lira has barely left your side in three days.’
I lowered my eyes for a moment, and then looked over at the pale-skinned girl who was stripping down to her undergarments to get into the river. I thought it strange for her to do so within my sight, but I wasn’t about to complain. Sarlice frowned in Lira’s direction as she waited for my response. All the attention I was getting was starting to drain me—I had no idea how to handle it.
‘What do you say, Rekala? A walk?’ I asked out loud for Sarlice’s benefit.
‘Very well,’
she replied, setting off in the opposite direction from Lira.
I took Tiaro out of my earlobe and handed it to Sarlice.
‘I sometimes forget about your Anzaii-kin,’ Sarlice said.
‘When there are no Zeikas around, it is dormant most of the time,’ I replied, ‘but if I want to give Rekala my devoted attention, it will be better not to have Tiaro nearby.’
‘I imagine it’s similar to my Tolite-kin,’ Sarlice said. ‘The voice is more integrated with yourself because it isn’t a living being. It becomes more active when it is being used.’
‘Aye.’
I followed my Rada-kin silently for fifteen minutes and she led me away from the river, down a rock-strewn slope and into a shallow depression in the land. Ochre stones were piled around us, like droppings left by a colossal beast. A channel was cut through the centre of the depression and small plants struggled to survive where there had once been water. My boots crunched on the rocks, drowning out the sound of the wind as it flowed across the landscape.
‘Is everything well with you, Rekala?’
I queried.
She settled down beside the dry creekbed and fixed me with her deadpan tiger stare.
‘I am fitter than I’ve ever been,’
she replied,
‘what with all this marching about day after day. Tigers spend a lot more time snoozing ordinarily.’
‘Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you?’
I asked, sitting down beside her and tickling the immense, leathery paw pads.
She flicked one paw absentmindedly, but didn’t pull away.
‘I’m not much used to being in a pack,’
she repeated,
‘so I’m having difficulty with the idea of sharing you.’
‘I’m always here in your mind, aren’t I?’
I asked, patting her on the forehead.
She lifted her cheek so I could scratch it.
‘Not always,’
she replied.
‘There are some times when I can overhear your every thought, but others when you seem far away. I don’t like it when you hide things from me.’
‘Trees! I’m not hiding anything!’ I exclaimed out loud.
‘Oh no? What about the conflicting feelings you have toward Sarlice and Lira?’
‘Conflicting feelings? No, no, not that again. Listen, Rekala, I barely know either of them—’
‘We barely know Lira,’
she agreed.
‘What has Kestric been saying to you?’
I asked.
‘Nothing. He is even more frustrating than you.’
‘Did you ever consider that we don’t discuss it yet because we don’t know? And it’s… personal.’
‘You are my world, Talon,’
she replied, punctuating her statement by getting to her feet and pressing her body against me. She rubbed her cheek against my shoulder, scent-marking me.
‘This communication we have on the waves is deeply personal
.’
‘Yes, but it isn’t personal in a romantic way,’
I countered.
‘Some humans have a very high regard for intimate relations—’
‘Mating….’
‘Call it what you will. Can we talk about something else?’
‘Fine,’
she replied.
‘I think I’m starting to understand, but if you keep things locked away from yourself, just remember I will have a hard time working them out as well.’
‘It’s the way we humans cope with certain complications in our world,’
I reassured her.
‘You’ll get used to it.’
While we were in the desert Sarlice and Lira wrapped themselves in layers of cloth and swathed their heads, but it wasn’t enough to fully protect them. We considered travelling at night for a time, but Lira insisted on staying close to the fire at night where the wolf packs would not approach.
It was a bright, humid afternoon when we arrived at Sarm. Though not much bigger than Tasset it had a style and sophistication like no other place I’d seen. I was suddenly conscious of my dusty worn attire. Would the people here consider me to be an outlander?
Never mind that. I have more important concerns
.
I set my mind to the terrain instead. Here the River Jarvi clashed with Telby River and split sharply in two again. For centuries the River Jarvi had been the stronger, eroding tons of sand, rocks and silt from the riverbed as it crashed into the higher ground around the Telby River. A single foaming waterfall now delivered vast quantities of water from the Telby River into Lake Sarm, which was more like a gigantic whirlpool of rapids than a lake.
‘The waves crashing on a beach are somewhat like those rapids,’ Lira said, taking my hand and pulling me towards the edge of the wooden platform we were standing on.
‘It sounds like dangerous water to swim in,’ I commented.
Sarlice glanced at us from where she was standing at the sailbarge clerk’s desk. We’d been told that to transport the three of us, our horses and the two tigers across the river was 85 bronze weights, but Sarlice was doing her best to negotiate the price down.
‘I’ve never swam in it,’ Lira replied. ‘Many have drowned.’ Her dainty face was still red and blistered from her time in the desert, her lips dry and cracked. A protective instinct rose within me, and I wondered if there would be a way for me to keep her from such exposure again. She wasn’t used to being in the wild like Sarlice and I were.
‘All right, we can board,’ Sarlice said, coming up behind us. ‘I got him down to seventy bronze.’
‘Impressive.’ Lira’s praise seemed a little forced.
At least she’s making an effort to get along
.
I collected the horses from a tying rail and led them towards the sturdy sailbarge. My gelding gave us the most trouble, but we coaxed him on with a half-rotted carrot from an impatient member of the crew who muttered about outlanders and their animals. Kestric and Rekala mingled nervously on the decks in the least offensive form they could muster, the common dog.
Sarlice leaned down on the rail, letting the wet spray coat her hair and shoulders. A fellow passenger on the sailbarge asked us where we were headed. I was about to tell him it was none of his business when Lira announced we were going to Jesath. He hesitated, giving each of us a head-to-toe assessment.
‘You’ll not be leaving for a few days, I suspect,’ he said. ‘The viperjays are due tonight.’
A cold shiver stabbed me from throat to belly.
‘Lightmaker, let them be late,’ I prayed.
‘Viperjays?’ Lira queried.
‘Poisonous blue birds that live in the forests of Ravra throughout most of the year,’ Sarlice explained. ‘Once a year, they flock inland through Sarm and Jaria to the roosting trees in the mountains.’
‘Tens of thousands of the little devils blot out the day-star for two days in their westward journey,’ I added.
‘I take it you don’t like them?’ Lira asked, intent on my expression.
I tried to hide the furrowing of my brow, but my stomach was already starting to tighten with nausea. ‘I… no, I don’t like birds… much. Childhood fear.’ I held up my wrist for her and Sarlice to see the scar.
The grunts of the oarsmen beneath us suddenly stopped and the docking struts butted the floating harbour. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead. There were signs of past viperjay migrations even here—bird poo splattered across the wooden slats of the jetty all the way up to town. The buildings were also coated in worn-down white and black droppings from years of migrations and subsequent weather.
It had been six months since I’d entered Sarm, the Silver City, but I remembered a good place to stay where Rada were welcomed for the work they could do for patrons. The Silver Shell was near the heart of Sarm at the end of a wide market lane. Sarlice had been there before as well.
Peddlers were busy packing up their wagons while stall owners took advantage of the remaining buyers in the streets, shouting discounted prices for perishables. Scores of young boys and girls and older hunters readied slings or bows in anticipation of the viperjays. Not only were the feathers and bones of the birds worth a certain sum, but if the venom could be extracted soon enough after death, various poisons, remedies and potions could be created from it.
I fidgeted and sighed as Sarlice purchased a sack of bran for the horses. Lira dismounted and offered to take the horses to the stable so I could get inside as quickly as possible. Despite feeling cowardly I accepted, taking the packs off my gelding so Lira wouldn’t have to lug them back to the inn.
Once I got inside The Silver Shell the tautness in my chest and neck lessened slightly. The common room was only a quarter full. Down one end three men sung in a loud yet pleasing harmony. My eyes found three green and black cloaks over the backs of their chairs and a circle with three points on a chain around each neck. I felt a man’s hand on my wrist and realised I had drawn the marble-hilted knife with my spare hand.
‘Hold your peace,’ he said firmly.
I knew him as Austo, the residing Rada of the Silver Shell. His presence alone wasn’t enough to quell any violence here, but with his bear Rada-kin, Mocinte, alongside, few would dare cause trouble. My body went rigid at the sight of more Zeikas coming in.
‘They have spread so fast,’
I sent to Rekala. She came to sit by my feet in her dog form. Staring at us, one Zeika missed his cue to sing, but the others didn’t seem to notice.
‘Don’t you know what they are?’ I meant to keep my voice low, but it rung with malice.
‘Don’t raise your voice, lad,’ Austo said, gripping my wrist harshly. ‘They have every right to be here now whether you and I like it or not.’
I glared at him.
‘Business is good for all.’ His own dark eyes shot straight back into mine. ‘As long as we tolerate our differences.’
‘While us Kriites are busy tolerating, the Zeikas are busy undermining every positive influence we’ve ever had on society,’ I retorted. ‘Don’t you know they want us all in chains?’
‘I do,’ Austo replied, ‘but attacking them for no reason is not the answer.’
‘You’re right,’ I agreed, sheathing my dagger. ‘Sorry.’
Lira appeared in the doorway, brushing her fingers through wet black hair and smiling when she saw me. I was barely listening as Austo told me the Silver Shell was overloaded with viperjay hunters just like every other tavern in Sarm tonight and he could not fit us in. Despite the fact that we were of the same faith he could do little about it.
Sarlice appeared with saddlebags over one shoulder and our night shelter under her other arm. She, too, stared angrily at the Zeikas, but soon Austo had relieved her of her burdens and was shaking her hand vigorously, apologising for their lack of rooms.
‘I’ll see that some other guests are shifted immediately, peasant hunters that they are.’
I raised my eyebrows at his sudden change of heart. Clearly Sarlice had more influence in this town than I did.
‘What are you try—’ I stammered, but Sarlice interrupted me.
‘Thank you, Austo,’ she replied coolly. ‘It’s been a long time. Could you get us three proper beds too? We’ve been sleeping aground far too long now.’
Surprise flitted across Austo’s face as he realised we were all together. Then he drew her aside. I overheard him say, ‘You know I’d do anything for you Sarlice… are beyond full… find a room for your two companions with some others… but I doubt… even find one bed.’
I could not have made out the rest if not for Rekala’s keen ears.
‘You deserve better than this,’ Austo told her. ‘You said you’d be back so I could return the favour… My sister would not mind
one
extra in our home if you wish to join us.’
‘I suppose you won’t let me say “nay”,’ Sarlice mumbled with a shy smirk.
I could not remember seeing that look on her face before.
Austo turned his head suddenly. ‘Mocinte says there’s trouble at the sanctuary.’
He opened a door to his right and hastily shoved our things inside. He and Sarlice moved back outside without another word. I shivered with irritation, wishing I could just stay right where I was, despite the Zeika presence. Right then I could not believe that I was an Anzaii. Throughout Kriite history the Anzaii had been revered leaders, conflict-solvers and warriors. I’d never heard of one who was afraid of birds.
‘We won’t stay out long,’ I said to Lira, following after Sarlice and Austo. Somewhere inside I knew I was only trying to comfort myself. ‘We’ll be back under cover long before the viperjays appear.’
The image of a screeching falcon flooded my mind, rending the earth like flesh, drawing blood into the navy sky of twilight.