Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(44)
CHAPTER 17
IT TOOK US NEARLY HALF A MOON TO MAKE THE journey to Orzai, even with the help of a few hitched wagon rides. The sensation of being watched haunted me whether we were alone or with others. Perhaps the shadow god had left the spirits of Amalska behind to keep vigil until I rescued them from the past. The Fatestone was the only way.
As we traveled, I got used to the pressure in my chest, constant headache, and nausea that came from not sleeping well. Even my tinctures of lavender and valerian did nothing to help. Every night when we stopped, I swore I’d sleep as though I were dead, and every night I ended up lying awake with thoughts racing through my mind as swiftly as the wind lashed through grass and trees.
Many of our fellow travelers warned us of bandits, and we were grateful to lend them a helping hand with their animals or goods in exchange for the protection of numbers. Small towns and farming communities lined the road north, most of them little more than clusters of houses and fields waiting to be tilled. Hal’s way with words meant we always managed to find a place to rest—he made friends no matter where we landed.
Sometimes we heard rumors that made me think Ina had passed through these areas before us. One farmer had found a pair of his sheep torn to pieces at the back of his pasture, deep gouges in the earth around them. A merchant’s young son talked our ears off for an entire half day’s ride, telling stories of all he’d seen, insisting that just last week he’d seen a white bird big as a house. The stories made my skin crawl and my stomach turn. Where was she? How close was she to mastering her manifest and attempting regicide?
I wished she could know that, even now, I was still trying to save her and those she’d loved.
The hills became greener by the day as spring grass pushed up through last year’s dead and flattened growth. Hal grew facial hair that accentuated his high cheekbones, and the strength in my legs increased until I wasn’t nearly so sore after our long days of walking. Storms passed through, and we found ourselves running for cover, only to realize that surrounded by nothingness, we had nowhere to take shelter. So we walked on, even as ditches rushed with water and the road turned to muck that sucked at our shoes.
When the downpours became intolerable, Hal created a bubble of air around us that kept the rain at bay. Every time my mind started to storm with thoughts and memories of Ina, he told me silly stories or sang his favorite tavern songs to make me laugh. I never forgot my reasons for hurting, but they always hurt a little less because of him.
When we made camp at night, I took up singing vespers again. Hal listened with closed eyes as I let the wordless songs of prayer temporarily wash away the soul-deep ache of Ina’s betrayal—and her absence. My only moments of peace came then, as the music sank into my bones and Hal’s attention warmed me, gentle and comforting as spring sunlight.
Eventually the road curved east along the Vhala River, which tumbled with the muddy water of spring snowmelt. The river cut deeper into the land as we traveled, until the road climbed so high up on the cliffs that the rush of the water could no longer be heard. Every night mist curled into the canyon like a sleeping animal, dissipating only when the sun hit the top of the sky, growing thicker and more lingering the farther north we traveled.
“We should arrive in Orzai tomorrow,” Hal told me one night as we sat picking the last of the meat from the bones of our dinner. He’d been quieter than usual that day, which worried me. Perhaps asking him to bring me to his sister had been too much to demand. He hadn’t even made much conversation with the farmer who had given us a ride out of the last town.
Granted, the farmer had held up both ends of the conversation just fine. His chatter had even eased my fears about Ina being too close—apparently his cousin’s town many leagues to the west was all stirred up about the appearance of a dragon. The people there had never seen one and thought she was some new kind of god. The offerings of livestock, honey, and other foodstuffs must have made Ina very happy. Perhaps she’d settle there for now, leaving me free to get the Fatestone and correct the past. Then I could decide what I wanted—if the life I had thought was enough still would be.
The next morning, I saw nothing along the road to indicate that we were approaching a settled area, much less a large city. From Hal’s descriptions, I had expected Orzai to be visible from some distance away. He’d told me it was almost entirely built of stone—a city of towers so tall the tops couldn’t be seen from the bottoms. All I saw were mountains looming on the horizon in the northeast, and the cliff dropping off sharply on the northwest side of the main road.
“Shouldn’t we be getting close?” I asked him. The sun was nearly to the midpoint of its journey now, though the mist below us still showed no signs of dissipating.
“Orzai is a city you won’t see coming,” he said.
Soon enough, I discovered what he meant. As we crested a steep incline, the peaks of watchtowers appeared along the side of the cliff, jutting into the sky like the uneven teeth of a predatory animal. The spires went on almost farther than I could see. Some smaller buildings clustered on either side of the road near the towers ahead, businesses set up to house those who needed a waypoint outside the city. Though the road continued to hug the cliff side, ostensibly heading northeast to Corovja, before the first tower we reached a fork that seemed to drop right off the edge of the cliff.
Hal stepped to the edge alongside the path. He teetered there with his toes hanging off, his arms spread to the wind. The sight made my heart rise into my throat, though I knew with his gifts, he wasn’t likely to fall.