Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(13)
"Where's Daragar now?" Kooper asked.
"Daragar is there—on Siriaa," Ildevar Wyyld appeared in Lissa's study, where she and Kooper held their private conversation. "Kaldill went with him."
"If anybody can bring a planet back from the brink, it would be Kaldill," Lissa nodded. "Although I'm having my doubts about this," she tapped the borrowed book.
"Has Marid of Belancour been apprehended, yet?" Ildevar asked Kooper.
"Not yet, Founder," Kooper shook his head. "Local authorities attempted to take him before my agents arrived. Their effort was unsuccessful and Marid fled with his family and everything they owned. We're searching now, but there's a cloud about his location. We know he's no longer on Shaaliveer, but we can't pin the location down."
"If I learn that jackass has a Sirenali, I'll kill him myself," Lissa snapped.
Kooper refrained from responding; his worry was the same as Lissa's. Only a Sirenali could defy his searches and that spelled disaster, in his opinion.
*
The waters of Fyris
Quin
This time, I was conscious while we navigated the straits. It was as if we traveled through a wall of very dense fog for several moments before coming out on the other side to sunlight glittering off the waters. I had no idea what might create the fog, let alone the shortening of our journey.
Berel attempted to contact his father in Kondar shortly after. At first, there was no reply—I can only imagine that the wall of fog prevented communication in some way, but once the fog lay far behind us, Berel's tab-vid worked perfectly.
He and I both breathed happy sighs when Edden Charkisul's face appeared on the small screen.
"We're getting close, Father," Berel smiled at his parent. "At our current speed, we should arrive in four hours. The Captain reports that most of the sharp rocks and other obstacles have disappeared off his scanners and they've mapped a clear path to the city Quin calls Lironis."
"Have you seen any of the inhabitants, yet?" Edden asked.
"No. We are far enough offshore that we cannot see land yet. The scanners now indicate it is there, though. Isn't that exciting, Father? I feel like an explorer from centuries ago."
"You are an explorer, Son," Edden smiled. "I will receive reports from the science officers, but I prefer your reports above theirs. Keep me informed."
"I will," Berel nodded enthusiastically.
Berel couldn't see it, but I could; worry clouded the High President's face. Civil war threatened Kondar and he was preparing for battle, should it come. When Berel ended the communication with his father, I asked my questions.
"Will you show me everything you have on the one who imprisoned you?" I begged. Berel nodded and requested information from the tab-vid's store of knowledge. Before long, both of us pored over images and reports concerning Dorthil Crasz.
*
The urge to fly about the Western spires overwhelmed me when we passed them. Amlis and Rodrik had never seen them from the west, so they stood at the railing with Berel and me as we passed. Berel held his tab-vid aloft, recording images for his father.
Farther east, past the spires, I could see the darker outline of the cliff where I'd sat on Stepper's saddle, gazing at the wonder of the tall, spiked formations. Birds still wheeled about them; the spires were home to them and the sharp rocks held many nests.
"We will arrive in less than two hours," Kaldill joined us at the rail. "So much might be done with this world," he breathed. "I worry that it may not be possible."
I knew Kaldill was old—I merely couldn't comprehend how old he could be. To him, the Larentii who now stood beside him was very young. I found it amazing that neither Kaldill nor Daragar showed any signs of age. Both were more than ancient, yet they appeared quite young.
Had Kaldill not been immortal, I imagined his face would be covered with the lines of his worries throughout the millennia.
"You see too much," Kaldill reached out a hand and tucked hair behind my ear. At least my hair had grown out along with my wings—it was now down to my shoulders. Where Kaldill's hair was a golden color, mine still contained gold, copper and silver strands. Most days, I had no idea what to make of it.
"It's beautiful," Kaldill reassured me. "Never berate yourself or what you have because it is different. Rejoice in it, instead."
"Not always an easy thing to do, King Elf," I nodded respectfully to him. I didn't want to say it—was almost afraid to think it—but his touch had sent a wonderful shiver through me and I wanted to savor it as something that belonged only to me.
Instead, I turned my thoughts to Tamblin and how he'd proclaimed himself King of Fyris. A real King stood humbly beside me and thought to brush hair away from my face when the wind blew it into my eyes. Tamblin would only take his pleasure from a lowly servant, never thinking of her—only of himself.
*
Vhrist
"My King, we saw terrible things," Captain Herth of the fishing vessel Grunt, reported to Tamblin.
"Terrible things?" Tamblin sounded bored.
"Where the strait begins—you know of it?" Herth trembled, a fisherman's cap held tightly in his fingers as he addressed the King.
"I know of it." Tamblin shifted on his temporary throne and cut his eyes toward Yevil, who stood nearby. Tamblin had never seen the fog representing the strait—he'd only heard reports and knew of the written accounts of many sailors. He'd also heard of it from his brother, Tandelis—who'd visited the glass castle several times.