Dagger's Point (Shadow series) (5 page)

“I didn’t have to ride the long way around the edge of the forest,” Shadow said mildly. “I simply rode through the Noble District and took the west ferry at the Docks. Much shorter.”

“I’d have bet my sword that nobody saw us leaving,” Jael said, sighing. “What did you do, camp in the stables to watch the horses?”

Shadow chuckled, ignoring Jael’s disgust.

“Little acorn, you’re more like your mother than you know,” she said. “I had my pony packed last night. Now mount your

horses and we’ll ride while we talk. No profit in losing good traveling time. Oh, by the way, here.” She handed Jael a satchel. “From Argent. Potions and salve and strict instructions to use them if they work. If not, just throw the lot away. Also a hefty purse, which tested my honesty far too harshly. Nonetheless, I’ll have you know I took not so much as a single copper—even though your premature escape cost me a comfortable night’s sleep.”

Jael sighed again, hanging the satchel with her other bags.

“So I suppose you all knew about this and were just chuckling behind our backs,” she said sourly. Well, at least she’d
still
managed to miss the sword practice and the lectures.

“I wouldn’t say that ‘chuckling’ described the sounds Donya made,” Shadow grinned. “And to say that she was annoyed would be like saying a dragon is a tree-lizard with a bad temper. So she gave me a hefty scolding to pass on to you and all but pushed me out the door to meet you here.”

“And I suppose I’m to be flayed alive when we return, for helping her,” Tanis said resignedly. “Well, scold us and be done with it.”

“No scolding, and no flaying,” Shadow chuckled, climbing with some difficulty onto her pony and urging it forward so she was riding closely beside Jael. “Donya used this same trick— more successfully, I might add—some twenty-two years ago, and you might bring that fact to her attention if you come back and find she’s been whetting the edge of her tongue. So are you bound for Westenvale now?”

Jael nodded dismally, hoping that Shadow would not insist on accompanying them farther than the first city. Surely Donya would not have taken revenge by having her friend nanny Jael and Tanis for their entire journey.

“Good.” Shadow nodded briskly. “There’s a good-sized merchant train that left for Westenvale just yesterday morning. With a fair pace, you should catch up to them sometime tomorrow.”

“ ‘You’?” Tanis repeated, his brows arching. “Does that mean you aren’t—”

Shadow waved a hand negligently.

“I’ve got better things to do than shepherd a couple of younglings for days out of my way,” she grinned. “If I hurry, I can just catch a southward-bound caravan myself. If you can’t manage to get to Westenvale alive on a well-traveled road and in the safety of a merchant caravan, the presence of one puny elf won’t make any difference, anyway. Promise me you’ll catch up with the caravan, and I’ll relieve you of my unwanted presence with nary a lecture.” She spit into her hand and held it up to Jaellyn. “Bargain?”

Jael spit into her own hand and shook Shadow’s hand, leaning far down to do so.

“Bargain,” she said gladly.

“One last piece of advice,” Shadow said, gazing into Jael’s eyes. “Don’t go to the Kresh and beg for what you need. Walk straight up to them and demand what should be yours. If they’re all like Farryn, they’re a people who respect strength. Remember that.”

Jael nodded.

“I won’t forget,” she said.

“Then you can follow the wagon tracks in the road, and Fortune favor you both,” Shadow said, giving Jael’s hand a last squeeze. “Stay warm, stay wise, and don’t waste your wine.”

“Thank you, Aunt Shadow,” Jael said humbly.

“Thank you,” Tanis repeated. “We’ll be careful.”

“Be careful,” Shadow agreed with a grin, “but better yet, be lucky.”

She gave them a last wave as she turned south. In a few minutes, her pony had disappeared into the morning mist. Jael watched after her until she was out of sight, then turned back to Tanis.

“Let’s go,” she said, excitement swelling in her chest until she thought she would burst. “The road is ours.”

Ill

Jael shivered and huddled deeper into her rain cloak, letting her horse follow the wagon ruts and choose its own footing. With the typical unpredictability of spring weather, a good-sized rainstorm had gathered and broke only a few hours after she and Tanis had parted from Shadow. They hadn’t packed the loads on the horses with rain in mind, and the first drops had forced them under cover of a stand of trees to repack, covering the sacks with the waxed skins they had brought before they donned similarly treated cloaks. A waterproofing spell would, of course, have been more useful, but Jael blessed Tanis’s tact in not pointing this fact out. It wasn’t
her
fault that most magic anywhere in her vicinity went awry, the more so if she touched it or focused her attention on it, and thankfully Tanis didn’t seem inclined to blame her for their present discomfort.

The road was already slick and muddy from other recent rains, and the poor footing and poorer visibility slowed their progress. The merchant caravan, with waterproofing spells, sturdy wagons, and large teams of heavy draft horses, was likely moving faster than they were. It was probably nearing sunset now, and they’d made pitifully little progress. Jael could only hope that the rain would stop soon, or, failing that, the road would become so soft that the wagons would bog down in the mud and allow Jael and Tanis to catch up.

“I’ll take the lead for a while, see if I can find somewhere to camp,” Tanis said, urging his horse forward to ride beside Jael. “Take the pack horse.”

Jael relievedly reined her horse in, tying the pack horse’s lead to her saddle. With Tanis leading them, Jael didn’t need to be able to see any farther than the rump of Tanis’s horse; she could draw her hood farther down over her face and pull her cold hands into her sleeves, riding in slightly greater comfort. Jael shivered inside her cloak, wishing she could stomach a little wine to warm her. Unfortunately, Bluebright was the only liquor—if she could call it that, having no idea what it was or how it was made—that did not turn her queasy, and Jael had no desire to add an upset stomach to her complaints, nor to risk the dizzy euphoria the Bluebright brought.

After a time Tanis dropped back to ride beside her again.

“There won’t be any road shelters this close to the city,” he said loudly, over the rain. “Let’s just stop at one of these farms. They’ll let us stay in the barn for a copper or two.”

“All right,” Jael said reluctantly. It galled her to stop still so near the city—they’d have made twice the distance in good weather—but there was no need to contract choking sickness when they’d just started on their journey, and her nose was running already. “You talk to the farmers, though. They might recognize me. I’ve spent too much time around the market.”

“And I haven’t?” Tanis asked mildly. Still, Jael’s point was good; if the farmers recognized Tanis as a thief, the worst that might happen is they’d refuse the travelers shelter. If the farmers belonged to the anti-elven faction in the city and recognized Jael, she and Tanis could be in very serious danger. Fortunately, there would not have been time for news to have reached the farms that Jael had disappeared from the palace, so none of the local farmers should be too suspicious of a couple of young wanderers caught in a spring storm.

Despite Jael’s keen vision, it was Tanis who spotted the stone farmhouse through the rain. Tanis dismounted and trotted to the house while Jael led the horses to what slight shelter could be found under the thatched eaves of the barn. After a few long moments, Tanis reappeared.

“We can stay,” he said. “They charged us half a Moon, probably because I look too young to know better than to pay it, but they’ll give us supper and hay for the horses and lend us dry blankets if ours are wet.”

Jael refrained from telling Tanis that for dry blankets and hot supper she would well have paid an entire Sun. She followed Tanis into the barn, and together they unloaded the horses. Fortunately, this was one of the ancient joined-block barns that had been built long ago; Jael was glad she wouldn’t risk ruining the weatherproofing spell on one of the new block-and-daub buildings currently being built. The barn was dry and fairly clean, although last autumn’s hay in the loft smelled a little musty when Jael spread their thankfully dry blankets there, and the livestock below were comfortable—no bellyache or hoof-spot to twinge through Jael’s uncontrolled beast-speaking sensitivity and keep her awake all night.

While Jael made up the pallets, Tanis ventured out into the rain once more to fetch their supper. He returned with a large covered bowl of bubbling hot, rather greasy stew and a loaf of crusty, warm bread, and they fell to with more enthusiasm than they had shown at the palace the night before. As the hot stew warmed her, Jael reflected that there was some mysterious quality of hot, simple stew eaten in a barn at the beginning of a great adventure that surpassed the finest viands served in the same dining hall she’d seen almost every day of her life. Tanis, however, perusing their map, was not so cheerful.

“Even if the rain stops before dawn, the road will be awfully muddy,” he said. “Unless the merchant caravan’s gotten mired, there’s little chance we can catch up with them tomorrow. Not unless we cut across country instead of taking the road.”

“I don’t know that that will save any time,” Jael said, shaking her head. “It’s late enough in the spring that most of the farmers have already plowed their fields, making them even muddier than the road after that rain. Besides, some of those farms have dogs or even drakes to protect them.”

Tanis sighed and rolled the map.

“Then I suppose we just hope that the caravan’s moving slowly enough that we can catch them. We can’t bet on kind farmers every rainy night that comes.”

Jael mopped her nose on her sleeve.

“It’s only a few days’ ride to Westenvale,” she said. “If we don’t meet the caravan tomorrow or the next day, it won’t be worth the money we’ll have to pay to join it. What if we just go on without the caravan?”

“Remember what your mother said about bandits?” Tanis said patiently. “She wasn’t exaggerating. I’ve ridden on more trade roads than I could count, and I’ve seen a
lot
of bandits and their work. Robbers love these trade roads, especially a trade road between two large cities like Allanmere and Westenvale. If a merchant caravan’s large enough, they won’t dare attack it, just look for something smaller. Such as two young people with a lot of baggage traveling alone.”

Jael grimaced. Adventure and discomfort was one thing; getting their throats slit was another.

“So we have to catch up with the caravan,” she said. “At least the foul weather will keep bandits under shelter, too. Well, likely the rain will stop tonight. The weather-mages weren’t predicting any long storms for the next few days. In the meantime, is there any stew left?”

“Not a drop.” Tanis frowned as Jael sneezed. “You haven’t caught a chill already?”

Jael shook her head.

“Just my usual spring sniffles, I hope. Plus I’m still cold, and sitting on dusty hay, too. I suppose I should use some of the potion Shadow brought from my father.” She found the bottle and carefully measured the drops into her cup.

“I don’t suppose that helps with any of your other—ah, problems?!’ Tanis asked delicately.

Jael sighed.

“I wish it did.”

“Because I was thinking,” Tanis said hesitantly, “that if you’re cold, we could move the two pallets together. For warmth.”

“Tanis,” Jael said slowly, “I don’t think that’s really a very good—”

“Just for warmth,” Tanis repeated. He smiled. “I mean it. I know better than to expect anything else.”

“All right.” Jael sighed again. As always, Tanis refused to speak a word of blame, but Jael felt guilty nonetheless. Jael knew that Tanis wanted her, maybe even loved her; that was one fact. They both knew that until Jael could fill the void that was the missing part of her soul, she could never quite reach adulthood, could no more desire Tanis than she could the livestock in the pens below them; that was the other fact. Those thoughts hung unspoken between them, aching like an old wound. Jael had thought it best to place their pallets as far apart as the loft would allow—why torment Tanis?—but if it gave him some comfort to have her near, maybe that was better than nothing. And the nights
were
still cold.

They pulled the pallets together, and Jael crawled rather hesitantly between the blankets. The straw was soft and quickly warmed, and their closeness meant that they could double and share the covers, but Jael felt acutely uncomfortable.

“It’s all right,” Tanis said softly. “Come here.”

Jael scooted over awkwardly against the warmth of Tanis’s body. He folded his arm around her, pillowing her head on his shoulder. Surprisingly comfortable, and glad not to have to look at his face as she asked, Jael dared a question that had gnawed at her for over a year.

“Tanis, have you ever—you know, been with a woman?”

Tanis tensed a little, and Jael was almost sorry she had asked. But Tanis was her dearest friend, and they couldn’t live so closely for months with walls between them.

“A couple of times,” Tanis said rather abashedly at last. “Women in brothels. It’s only been since—uh—”

Since he’d told her how he felt about her, since he’d learned why she couldn’t return his desire, Jael laid her own arm over his chest comfortingly.

“I’m glad,” she said, grinning into the darkness. How she’d dreaded learning that he’d been foolishly waiting for her out of some misplaced romantic notion, as if his suffering did her any good!

“You are?” Relief and amazement were plain in Tanis’s voice.

“Of course I am,” she assured him. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, besides Aunt Shadow. I don’t want you to be unhappy because of me.” She remembered the fire she’d felt in her own body when she’d tasted Bluebright, how near she’d come to giving herself to Urien, a virtual stranger. Was that what Tanis felt? What an amazing thing, that Tanis could feel that way about
her,
all gangly legs and elbows! “Were they beautiful, the women?”

“Look, Jaellyn, can’t we talk about something else?” Tanis said uncomfortably. “Why don’t you tell me about your fa...uh, Farryn again.”

“It’s all right, you can say he’s my father,” Jael told him. “It doesn’t bother me that I’m a bastard. Not much, anyway. Anyway, you know the story already. Farryn appeared in the Heart-wood, sick with the Crimson Plague, and the elves captured him. They’d never seen anyone like him before, so they called my mother to come look at him. She took him back to the palace.”

“That was foolish, if he was sick,” Tanis said wryly.

“Nobody had ever heard of the Crimson Plague at that time, and none of the elves who had been near him had gotten sick,” Jael said patiently. “Nobody knew it was something that elves couldn’t catch but humans could. Anyway, Farryn got better; Crimson Plague wasn’t as serious to the Kresh as it was to humans, either. But by the time Mother was able to get a translation spell so she could even talk to Farryn, plague was already in the city, probably brought in by the elves, and people were starting to die. Farryn told them—”

“Who’s ‘them’?” Tanis interrupted.

“Mother, Father—Argent, that is; they weren’t married then— Aunt Shadow, Mist, my foster father, Grandma Celene and Grandfather Sharl,” Jael told him. “Farryn told them about the Kresh living up in a valley in the northern mountains, and said that his own people had caught the plague from northern barbarians who were trying to overrun the Kresh’s valley—the only pass through the mountains—to come south. The Kresh had almost always defeated the barbarians before, but now that so many of them were sick, Farryn was afraid that the Kresh would be defeated. Then the barbarian army would get through the pass and head south, just like what happened during the Black Wars, only this time they’d be bringing the Crimson Plague south with them, too.

“Some of Farryn’s people had once lived near Allanmere, in a place that’s in the Dim Reaches now, and he’d come to ask them for help, for a cure for the plague and maybe some way of fighting off the barbarians. Aunt Shadow had been through the swamp and had seen the houses where Farryn’s folk had lived, and she knew they were already dead or gone, but Farryn said there was a temple where records would have been left. So Mother decided to go with Farryn to find the temple and hopefully a cure for the plague. She took Aunt Shadow with her, because she’d been through the swamp before, and Mist because Farryn was really his prisoner by elven law, and Argent because he was an herbalist and there was a plant that grew in the swamp that they were using to try to cure the plague.” Jael grinned. “That’s what Mother says. I think Father went because he loved Mother and didn’t want her to go without him. Anyway, they
did
find the cure in the temple and brought it back, and Farryn went back to his people.”

“But when did you get—well, planted, as the elves would say?” Tanis asked.

“Mother spent one night with Farryn,” Jael said. “I think it was after the battle with the giant daggertooth, although Aunt Shadow won’t say. Nothing gets Mother’s blood up like a good swordfight, though. I’ve seen her drag Father right out of audience after a good practice match. Get Aunt Shadow to tell you the whole tale sometime, especially the part about making the daggertooth into a boat. She’s a much better storyteller than I am.”

“I still don’t understand,” Tanis complained. “Where does the stone melting fit in, and why are you missing part of your soul?”

“I’m not certain I understand that part of it myself,” Jael admitted. “According to Aunt Shadow, there were different clans of Kresh, just like there are different elven clans. Farryn’s clan could run like the wind, almost faster than you can see, like Aunt Shadow said. There was another clan who could mold stone without touching it. Long ago, when those two clans lived together near Allanmere, they intermarried, so Farryn must have carried a little of their blood himself, and that’s the part that came out in me. The gods know
I
can’t run over water. I can hardly run over good solid ground without tripping over my own feet.”