Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(26)
SIX
A BRINY TANG SALTED THE AIR LONG before I crested a ridge that overlooked the bustling port city of Tevros. A vast bay sparkled in the midday sun. Docks poked out from the wharf surrounded by a profusion of vessels, from humble fishing boats to fat merchant ships, all with blinding white sails.
I pushed a hand against my galloping heart. For a minute, the fog that had clouded my mind since leaving Arcus lifted. I’d once asked if he would show me the sea someday, a longing I’d had since childhood, when the farthest I’d traveled was to the next village. Arcus had agreed, but now I was seeing it without him. What would he have pointed out to me, if he were here? What might he see that I would miss?
Even with the rocky headlands jutting out on both sides, the sheer mass of water amazed me. Staring at it gave me a feeling of insignificance. Once aboard the ship, I would be nothing more than a grain of sand on a piece of driftwood, tossed about by that infinity of churning and thrashing.
I sighed and continued down a winding footpath. I tried, for the hundredth time, to rub the ache in my chest with the heel of my hand. It felt like a thorn was rooted there, a little to the left of my breastbone, somewhere soft and tender where it would fester. Each word Arcus had said to me in that final conversation kept echoing in my head, the feeling of our kiss imprinted on my lips and in my blood. He said there’d always be a place for me. I told myself that, especially when I started imagining the worst—that he might cut me out of his memories, unwinding the threads of shared experiences that bound us, and freezing out the parts of his heart he’d told me, in that tender moment at the ball, that I’d melted.
I took a shuddering breath and dropped my hand. Hearts didn’t explode, no matter how much it might feel like it. The pain would ease, eventually. And I couldn’t second-guess my decision to leave. It served no purpose.
It was a relief to finally be alone. Brother Thistle had accompanied me, using the ride to discuss details of my mission, right up to the crossroads a mile back, my fork taking me to Tevros, his to Forwind Abbey.
As I’d shifted some of my supplies to his horse, he’d dismounted and surprised me with a quick hug.
“Be careful.” He’d put his hands on my shoulders and peered at me intently. “Do not take any foolish risks.”
“You take the fun out of everything.”
“You will be circumspect in all things. Cautious and calm. You won’t lose your temper.”
I glanced around. “Who are you speaking to? That certainly doesn’t sound like me.”
His thick brows moved together like storm clouds gathering above the pale skies of his irises. “I wish I could go with you.”
“Well, since you can’t, make sure you check in on Arcus, would you? I hate that he’s alone with the Blue Legion still lurking around.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave him for long. Just until his temper cools. And he has several allies he can trust. I made sure they would watch over him. Focus on your task. And keep safe.”
I patted the back of his hand. “You too.”
I’d sent my gelding with him, eager to be out of the saddle after three days’ ride. We’d had a dozen guards nipping at our heels the whole journey, on Arcus’s orders, but I’d managed to convince them to return to the capital this morning. The previous night, we’d gone to an inn and I’d paid for round after round of ale with the heavy bag of coins the royal purser had given me for the trip. The guards had slumped over their pommels as we rode from the inn to the crossroads, their bleary, bloodshot eyes scanning halfheartedly for trouble. Brother Thistle assured them they could leave me to my own devices.
We both knew a contingent of the king’s guard would probably ruffle Kai’s feathers. Better I go alone.
Tevros was nothing much to look at. If the gleaming harbor was its face, then the city was its backside, with a tightly packed center hemmed in by cramped and ugly houses perched like squashed hats on scrubby, sloping land. Soon, I was off the hilly footpath and weaving through the busy streets.
I didn’t have much experience with cities. It was all so much to take in: noisily rattling carts and painted wagons, baritone-voiced sailors and well-dressed merchants, exhausted-looking parents herding inquisitive children, vegetable stands and storefronts and peddlers. And the smells of fish and sweat and flowers and piss and the sea.
As I passed a shadowed alley, there was a flash of movement, a brush against my leg, and I suddenly felt lighter on one side. It took a second to realize my money purse was gone.
Furious at how easily I’d been robbed, I followed the sound of running feet. When I turned the corner into another alley, I came up short.
There stood the familiar lean form of a ginger-gold-haired, olive-skinned, crookedly smiling man. He was holding a small urchin who thrashed and kicked, a money purse clutched in one small, dirty hand.
“Ah, now what have I caught?” Kai mused calmly. “A tiny fish. But you’re too small for the dinner table.”
“Let me go!” The voice was high and I realized the pickpocket was a girl, her eyes wide. “Or I’ll… I’ll tell the constable you’re trying to kidnap me.”
Kai chuckled. “You wish to clean out our purses, but we’re not ready to part with all those shiny coins just yet.”
“Just bumped into her by accident,” the pickpocket said. “I didn’t mean to—”