Wanderling (Spirit Seeker Book 1) (16 page)

"Are you satisfied now?"
he said with annoyance. "Only a fool fights for sport. Unless you actually
thought you would escape, which is madness."

She panted, squirming against his
weight to test his grip, but he held her fast. "I didn't think I'd do it
today,” she said. “I just thought I'd test your strength so I know what to
expect when I do escape," she said lightly, avoiding his stare.

"You can't escape," he
said, his voice soft and urgent. "Adala, they won't hesitate to kill you.
Don't do it." He couldn’t think about what would happen if she tried to
leave. She was reckless and headstrong; he knew she wouldn’t be smart about it
if she did attempt to escape. He didn’t understand how he could care so much
about someone so difficult.

"What do you mean 'they'?
Like you aren't one of them?" She said desperately. "You got your
promotion by turning me in, you bastard. You’ll be the one hunting me down if I
do escape." She swallowed, her voice raw with emotion.

He leaned forward, bringing their
faces close. "Listen well," he whispered. "Now is not the time.
If you are going to escape on your own, do it when we're in the hills again.
You don’t know the desert; you cannot hope to find water for yourself and a
horse in the wastelands, and without a horse they will catch up to you without
question."

"What do you care if they
do?" she muttered, looking at the sleeve of his tunic instead of his face.
"I'm just a body to guard. That's all I am to you."

"You have no idea what you
are to me," he blurted.

Silence hung between them a
moment, and Tobin became suddenly all too aware of his position on top of her.
She seemed to realize it too, shifting uncomfortably beneath him. He released
his hold on her wrists abruptly, but remained where he was, his body pressed
against hers.

"Then what am I, Tobin?"
she said, finally lifting her crisp blue eyes to meet his gaze.

He brushed his fingertips over her
flushed cheek. He desperately wished he could protect her. Wished they could know
one another under different circumstances, in different lives. But Tobin knew
this life was the only one they had, and he knew that she was the most
spirited, loyal woman he had ever been privileged to know. If he did anything
that brought her harm, it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Promise me, Adala," he
whispered, growing almost inaudible. "Promise me you won't try to escape.
Not without me."

“When do you think we should
leave?” Adala said as they approached camp, brimming with excitement. She could
still feel the flush in her cheeks and warmth on her skin where Tobin had
gripped her wrists. The memory of his nearness and the joy of knowing his true
allegiance added a spring to her steps.

“I’m not sure yet. Before Burano has
the desert clans on his side, that’s for sure,” Tobin responded. “We can
discuss our options during tomorrow’s ride. Right now I have to send a group of
men after our pile of brush and go water the horses.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “What
should I do?”

“You have the freedom to roam camp
now that we’re well into the desert. I don’t have to babysit you. Eat some food
from your saddle bags and wait for me,” he said. “You’re just not allowed near
Burano’s tent without a guard or within twenty paces of the water barrels —
Burano is a bit touchy about you having more than a day’s supply of water on
hand.”

“Imagine that.” She grinned at
him, feeling an unfamiliar sense of well being.

Tobin smiled back, revealing his
deep dimples, and headed toward the other side of camp where the wagon with
water barrels stood. As soon as they parted, a million thoughts swarmed through
Adala’s mind. Her heart leaped to know that she had Tobin as an ally, and she
couldn’t wait to begin planning their escape. She made her way between piles of
saddle bags, bedrolls, and groups of men playing cards while they ate their
evening meals, imagining a future that left Burano in the dust behind her,
Shem, and Tobin. It was a bright thought, having endless possibilities before
her. She felt both relieved and giddy about Tobin’s revelation, suddenly not
encumbered by the helpless feeling that had consumed her in captivity.

The sense of relief followed her
as she made her way to her bed roll. She stared at the stars, enveloped in her
own thoughts and too excited to sleep just yet. But with the burden of planning
escape now shared by Tobin, her body relaxed at last and she began to drift
into a peaceful sleep.

***

The next day, as they pressed on
in their travels, the rock outcropping in the distance grew larger and larger,
until eventually they reached its base at dusk.

"Water!" Adala heard
someone shout. Beneath the rusty red rock formation, nestled in some meager
trees and shrubbery, lay a small pond, maybe ten paces across.

Burano stood in his stirrups to
address his men, voice booming over the excited rumble of conversation.
"First we replenish our barrels of water and give our horses a drink, then
we all have a drink ourselves. Bring up the wagon!"

The men did as he said, and others
began making camp. Jarod found coyote tracks in the dirt, and he and Tobin
followed the trail away from camp to hunt.

Adala scraped the sweat from
Dusty’s ratty coat and led him to a meager patch of grass, at which he gnawed
greedily. She admired the sandy red lines in the tower above them. The cliff
bent inward so that the rock sheltered the pond from the sun. To her left,
though, the rock rose in layers of sandstone, rising straight into the air,
maybe fifty feet up. She wandered to the base and put a hand on the stone. It
was hot from the sun and gritty against her skin. She studied the layers of
sand made solid by time. Red, tan, brown. The last rays of the sun glistened in
the rock, creating a dazzling rainbow of earth tones.

"Thinking of climbing to the
top?" said Tobin, coming up behind her.

She turned. "How far do you
think you can see from up there?"

"Maybe a hundred
leagues," he estimated. "It depends on the day. I'll race you
up."

"I thought you were
hunting," she said.

"I was hunting. Now Ollie is
starting a fire to cook my catch, and I am beating you." He grinned and
leaped up to grab a ledge of rock a few feet above his head, propelling himself
up the wall like a cat.

Adala was no stranger to climbing,
however, and she heaved herself up as fast as she could. The rock layers made
for easy hand-holds, and she climbed swiftly after him, catching up before the
halfway point. They both gasped for breath by the time they reached the top,
Adala’s heart pounding joyously in her chest.

"I won," she said,
standing and offering him a hand.

He waved her away, catching his
breath. "We tied, fair and square."

"But you had a head
start," she said, turning to survey the terrain. The top of the rock was
worn smooth by time, and orange-red. She looked out to see the encampment
below, and even the mountains in the distance. In the other direction, she saw
mostly flatness, with a few hills here and there and some other rock
formations.

"When does the desert
end?" she asked, walking to the edge of the rock to look out.

"The desert dwellers say it
takes a month to cross. And they travel light," Tobin added, coming to
stand next to her.

"Why do they stay in the
desert if they are capable of traveling away?" Adala said. "It
doesn’t seem very practical."

Tobin got a far-away look.
"It's integral to their culture," he said. "And their faith.
They believe the gods condemned them to the desert because of their sins. They
also believe they thrive on the spirits of the desert, and until a day comes
when the spirits lead them out, they are destined to remain."

"You believe that?"
Adala asked, looking up at him.

Tobin shrugged. "I don't
know. Did the gods banish them to the desert? Probably not. The Bolgish Empire
made settlements in the fertile lands and drove them out. Your people have a
habit of banishing the undesirables."

"What about the Flairnishmen?
Flairn is east of here, beyond the desert. Diggeret is south. Why couldn't they
find sanctuary there?"

"The desert people aren't
good at making friends," Tobin said. "Their spiritual practices would
look like evil witchcraft to your people, not worship."

"You've seen these
things?" Adala said.

Tobin looked into the distance
next to her. "I've seen enough."

She sensed he would not welcome
more questions, though she ached to learn more about the desert people. About
Tobin’s past. His face was solemn, creases deepening on his forehead as he
stared into the horizon. She tried to envision what had transpired between him
and the desert clans that would cut him off so permanently from their culture.
Surely they must be a savage people, to turn away Tobin and Sarah.

Adala hesitated, then rested a
hand on his shoulder. “We will leave all of this behind,” she said in what she
hoped was a reassuring voice.

Tobin swallowed and made a slight
nod. “I will begin hoarding my food, maybe swiping some from the supply wagon.
We will have to travel quickly and make it to the Wanderling Village to get my
sister. If we escape, Burano may use her as a hostage, the same way he used you
as leverage to get Shem.”

Adala nodded. “Of course. Then,
we’re going home.” She sighed at the sound of that word. “You’ll hear the
lapping of the waves and smell the fishy smells of the market. The air out here
is dry and dusty. You won’t believe what you’ve been missing when you feel the
ocean breeze.” Her voice trailed off as she daydreamed of sleeping atop a straw
mattress instead of a thin blanket. The comforts of home called to her.

“It will be an adventure,” said
Tobin. “We’d better head back though. They may wonder where we are.”

They carefully started the climb
back down, sounds of merriment drifting up from camp, where Ollie sliced coyote
meat on a slab of stone.

Adala was surprised and a little
concerned to see how quickly the water level had dropped in the pond. After the
barrels had been filled, the horses watered, and the men's flasks dipped, the
pond was a mere mud hole, lost of its serene, crystal-clear shine.

At their encampment, Adala found
Shem sitting on a rock next to the cooking fire, listening to Ollie sing a
sailor’s song. She walked briskly to catch a seat on the ground next to him,
surprised and elated to see him outside of Burano’s tent.

“I’m so glad to see you!” Shem
said, wrapping his arms around her in delight.

Adala returned his hug and began
singing along to Ollie’s sailor’s song, overjoyed to have a rare evening with
her brother and glad to be done with the long day’s ride. Hope of leaving with
Tobin and Shem soon certainly lifted a weight that had been hanging over her
since the night Shem had been taken. Even Jarod’s scowl didn’t dampen her
spirits. He stood behind Shem, a hand on the hilt of his sword while he watched
her.

“Don’t be tense,” Adala said to
the soldier. “Are you afraid I’m going to steal my brother away right here,
surrounded by your men?”

“I’m hoping you try just that,”
Jarod said, “so I have the pleasure of killing you myself.”

“A bit harsh,” she said. “I don’t
like you talking like that in front of my brother.”

Shem shifted uncomfortably.
“Adala, what is Ollie singing about?” he asked, changing the subject.

She turned him. “He’s singing of
the Maiden of Halorea. The legend says her husband died at sea, and she waits
for him on the rocks of Halorea Island, singing softly. Many sailors claim to
hear her voice when they sail by that place.”

“Or, if you listen to Ollie’s
version of the tale, you can see her on the cliffs,” Tobin said, sitting down
on the other side of Shem. “He told me once that he stole the Maiden away from
her island, and sailed with her to Sabria.”

“That’s far away,” Shem said. “Even
you’ve never been to Sabria, Adala.”

“You have an uncanny memory for
your age,” Adala said. “Do you remember all the places I’ve sailed?”

“I don’t always remember the names
of the cities,” Shem said in a discouraged voice, “but I remember where the cities
are.”

“How do you know where they are?”
Tobin asked quietly.

“I feel them,” Shem said simply as
he stared into the flickering fire. “I can feel lots of people if I
concentrate. And I always feel Mum and Adala.”

“You always know where I am?”
Adala said, her voice strained.

“Always,” Shem confirmed. “I can
find Tobin really easily now, too. And Burano.”

A lump rose in Adala’s throat.
“And Father?”

Shem looked at her with sad gray
eyes. “Not anymore.”

A sense of dread filled Adala’s
gut. “I have to go for a walk,” she whispered, standing. “No, not with you,”
she said as Tobin rose to join her. “Please, stay with Shem. I don’t want Jarod
to be his only guard.” She gave him a grateful look as she turned to leave the
group.

Adala wandered around the rock
structure alone, stopping occasionally to look at an odd bug or soft, spongy
plant. Flies and beetles buzzed around the plants, and she spotted lizards
emerging from between the rocks as the air cooled off for the evening.

You have a choice,
Adala
thought to herself.
You can either blindly move forward using only logic, or
take a leap of faith and trust Shem.

Believing in Shem’s ability was
harder than she imagined. Her insides knotted at the thought of her brother
being correct, that their father was dead. But Burano seemed to trust Shem’s
intuition, and she had no proof against her brother possessing some sort of
power from the gods. Even Tobin appeared to be reluctantly accepting the truth.
Deep down, she knew Shem’s instincts were legitimate. It seemed evident that he
had a true gift, even if she didn’t understand it. How and why he had it she
would never understand. And, if her parents had known about this gift, why had
they hidden it from her?

Adala looked into the darkening
sky, welcoming the sight of the constellations. She used to chart by them on
her father’s ship. But even as she searched the sky, Adala knew that the
answers she was looking for were not to be found in the stars above, but inside
herself.

“You always taught me to question
and to think, and to not believe anything I can’t see and feel for myself,”
Adala murmured, mainly to herself. “Why couldn’t you prepare me for this,
Father?”

If Shem is speaking truthfully,
Adala thought with a cringe,
he is in even more danger than I thought.
If she were to believe in her brother’s strange ability, as Burano seemed to,
she knew Shem could be used for great evil. In war, he could track movements of
armies. He could be used to sneak past patrols and find individual targets in a
battlefield.

Adala shuddered. “Even if it isn’t
true, I need to get him out of here, and now,” she said with finality. She took
swift strides in her walk back to camp, rubbing her bare arms as the evening
chill swept up from the desert floor.

When she returned to camp, she
found Shem where she had left him, gazing into the dying fire and chewing
freshly cooked meat.

“Adala, I saved some for you,”
Shem said, offering her a slice.

Adala bit into it gratefully.
“Where is Tobin?” she asked Jarod. “There’s something I need to discuss with
him.”

“I am not the half-breed’s
keeper,” Jarod growled, still guarding Shem and staring at Adala behind cold
gray eyes.

Shem shrugged. “Earlier, Burano
asked him to his tent. I don’t know if they’re still talking, or if Tobin is on
guard duty, but he’s still there.”

She nodded and turned to weave her
way between groups of men having their dinner and enjoying a bit of grog after
the long, hot day. She approached the tent with her thoughts distracted.
Whatever
Tobin says, we need to make our move soon,
she insisted to herself.
Whatever
the dangers of the desert may be, Shem is in far more danger with these men. We
need to do it tonight, if possible. No time to slowly collect food rations.
She looked over her shoulder at the shallow water hole. The water was murky,
but drinkable. They could supply themselves and slip away in the night during
Tobin’s watch. Hopefully it would be hours before someone noticed that they
were gone.