Flecks of Gold (9 page)

The sound of footsteps made me look up. It was the purple-eyed guy. I’d forgotten his name already.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” I lied.

He sat down across from me, and I sighed, exasperated.

“I wondered if you might have something to trade with me. I tried to find a present for my sister today, but found nothing.” He looked nonchalant, but I realized that he must have overheard my conversation with the innkeeper.

An ironic smile spread across my face. “I may have just the thing. You seem to be a man of fine tastes.” I flashed a cheesy grin, though the effort was difficult. “Would you by chance be interested in a book?” I heaved my backpack to the table and ripped the zipper open. After some thought, I pulled out my chemistry textbook and handed it to him. He looked just as awed as Ismaha had, carefully taking each page by the edge and turning it.

“I can even show you the pattern to translate the text, if you want, but I can’t show you which part to change.”

He looked up sharply at this last statement, and returned to gazing at the colored illustrations. I felt a Cheshire smile spread across my face as he examined the hard cover. Bree-whatever looked to be about twenty, but he struck me as a scholar. After all, hadn’t Ismaha said that mages had to study patterns for years before doing anything useful?

“So what’ll it be? Do you want it?”

“Yes.” His breath came out in a sigh of obvious longing.

“Do you think your sister will like it?”

“My sister?” Confusion clouded his face, and then he remembered. “Yes, my sister will love this.”

“So she loves reading too?”

“Yes,” he said too quickly.

“What’s her name?”

He hesitated, obviously trying to think. “Avana.”

“Ha, you don’t really have a sister, do you?” I couldn’t help but snicker.

“No.” He looked ashamed, which surprised me. I immediately felt chastised.

“I’m sorry. You’ve been really nice, and I keep harassing you. You don’t have to do this for me.” I felt like a heel.

“I want to.” He looked at me intently, but then dropped his gaze. “I mean, I would really like this book and the lacing pattern if you will sell it to me.”

“Sure. What’ll you give me for it?”

“Would sixty shem be enough?”

I didn’t want to flaunt my ignorance, but I didn’t think the guy would take advantage of me after going out of his way to help. “How much is that?”

“Where are you from?” he countered.

“America. Do you know it?” I asked longingly.

He shook his head, and my rising hope crashed down with a dull thud.

“It’s far away from here.” To my horror a tear slipped down my face. Boy, was I useless when exhausted. I quickly wiped it away. “Sixty shem will be fine. Here.” I showed him the pattern to change the writing one golden strand at a time as he had done for me, though I thought it would be a lot less of a hassle if I could show him the whole thing at once. He looked at it carefully and nodded.

“I will remember.” He reached into his relatively small pack, and took out a sack of coins, then counted out sixty. I had no idea if he was giving me the equivalent of sixty dollars or sixty cents.

“How much is a room, do you know?”

“Do not let him ask more than one shem for a bed and some breakfast in the morning,” he said. That gave me a better idea of how much Mr. Purple Eyes (and man, did he have nice eyes) had paid. I suspected that he’d overpaid me by a lot.

“Thank you.” I glanced at his face. He appeared incredibly curious. He didn’t ask any more questions, however, so I rose and paid the innkeeper for a bed and breakfast.

The bed was lumpy, but I didn’t care. I fell asleep almost instantly. When I woke up, the sun was shining through the shutters of the room’s one window. I wondered if I’d overslept. Thoughts of Mom goaded me into action, and I found that my muscles felt surprisingly less sore than yesterday. I tied my knotty hair back as tightly as possible and reluctantly slung my bags onto my shoulders.

Downstairs, I dropped to a table and found that breakfast was a horrible slimy soup that tasted like earthworm. It was an unappealing beginning to the day, but I doubted these people had ever heard of cereal. As I ate, the purple-eyed guy approached me. I couldn’t decide if should be glad to see him still at the inn or wary.

“May I sit?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“I was thinking. As we talked last night you mentioned getting to the king’s city. Am I correct?”

“Maybe. Who wants to know?” My lips curved to soften my words, but I felt a nervous flutter lurch through my middle.

“I am going there and thought we might travel together. Two traveling abroad is always safer than one.”

My stomach turned. I put my spoon carefully on the table, and took a deep breath. “I got lost once. It won’t happen again. I’m not usually stupid enough to get in that sort of situation, and I know you’re just trying to be nice, but I really don’t need,”
or want
, I added silently, “a big strong man to protect me.” I realized the speech sounded childish, but my pride smarted from my misadventure, and the fact that he seemed to think I was helpless did nothing to balm the wound. Nor did it restore my faith in men.

“I didn’t say you were.”

My brow arched. I still felt out of sorts and guilty at the same time, and I didn’t dare open my mouth.

“We are going the same way; we might as well help each other.”

It
would
be nice to have someone to talk to, but did I want to put myself in that position? I looked up into his purple eyes. They reflected nothing but earnest goodwill. I felt no wash of giddiness as I had with Kelson. Finally, I sighed, relaxing my rigid stance. “All right, but I have to warn you—I won’t put up with any funny business.”

He looked confused again. “You don’t like jokes?”

“No, I mean . . . Oh, forget it. Are you ready to go?”

He nodded, and we walked out of the inn into the stifling dry heat of the day. It must have been later than I thought; yesterday hadn’t been this warm until near noon. I wouldn’t admit it to Bree-something, but I was secretly glad he was there to guide me out of the city and onto the road. It baffled me that I could be so good at patterns but so terrible at direction.

He and I walked together in silence for awhile, and I had a sickening flashback to another walk not too many days ago with another man. This tall stranger in a dark green gee-like top and loose purple pants had been nice so far, but thoughts of Kelson were a good reminder that I couldn’t totally trust him. He didn’t seem like Kelson, but that didn’t mean anything. I was obviously just as bad a judge of men as Mom. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down. The sword strapped to his back added to my anxiety. I kept checking my brain for any hint of the fogginess, but it remained clear, and after a few hours I started to get bored of walking in silence.

“So why are you going to the king’s city?” I asked.

“I live there. I’m going home.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Do you always interrogate those who help you?” he said. I started to say no, but then thought for a moment. I had asked Ismaha a lot of questions too. It was actually amazing that I was talking so much. Maybe my need to find Mom was superseding my usual desire to avoid awkwardness.

“Yes.”

He laughed. “You are an unusual girl, Mari.”

Ha! He didn’t remember my name either
. “It’s Mary, don’t worry about remembering the rest. What was your name again?”

“Breeohan.”

“Do you go to school in the king’s city?” I asked.

“Not any more. I passed the magician’s trial this summer.”

“What does that involve?”

“You have magic, but you know nothing of the magician’s trial?”

“Where I come from, magic doesn’t exist.”

Breeohan stopped walking. “That’s impossible. Magic exists everywhere. Every country on Esa has people who wield pattern magic, and every continent is aware of it.”

“How would you know? You’re a little young to have traveled the whole world.”

“I have read of other’s journeys,” he said, sounding defensive.

“To every corner of the world?” I asked incredulously.

He blushed. “Well, no. But I’ve read of many places and have talked with other magicians about the prevalence of magic in the world.”

“Well, it isn’t on my continent.”
Nor any of the others that I know of
, I thought uneasily. “I don’t know why I have this pattern magic.”

“When we get to the city, you will have to show me your country. I have a world map there.”

“That would be great,” I said, hoping Breeohan’s map might prove I was still actually on Earth.

At about noon (I hated never knowing exactly what time it was) we stopped to eat. I fanned myself with one of my English worksheets. I felt gritty, soaked with sweat, and just generally disgusting. I hadn’t bathed in days, and it was torturous. My hair was greasy and still ratted, despite repeated attempts to comb it with my fingers.

I looked at Breeohan. He was a little sweaty, but otherwise looked immaculate, as if he’d bathed that morning. It was strange to see him dressed so much like an Arab, but with differences that made it obvious he was from somewhere . . . else.

Breeohan caught me staring, and I looked quickly away. He might look exotic to me, but I knew I looked terrible, and I didn’t want him scrutinizing me.

“When did you arrive in Iberloah?” he asked.

“Three days ago.”

He looked at me disapprovingly. “You could not have gotten here three days ago. The nearest sea port is about 450 kenars away, and the nearest river port 350 kenars.”

I guess it did sound unbelievable, but I didn’t know what to say. I doubted that he would believe me if I told him that I’d landed in a chicken coop after going through a terrifying golden tube, so I didn’t say anything to defend myself.

He let it drop. “We’ll reach a stream by early evening. I thought we’d stop there. It would be impossible to reach the next town tonight. It’s 60 kenars from Cibar.”

I perked up at the word
stream
. Water! I could wash myself. I could at least scrub parts of me, if it was really small. Suddenly my remaining hunger couldn’t compete with my desire to be clean. I stuffed my food and water back in the bag. “Let’s get going, then.”

Breeohan wasn’t done with his lunch, but he put his bread away and got up. I strode off at a brisk pace but slowed down a little to let him catch up.

“How big is this stream?” I asked eagerly. “No, wait, don’t tell me in case it’s too small to be much good. No, you’d better tell me so I can prepare myself for the worst.”

He laughed. “It’s not as bad as you fear. It is about ten paces wide and deep in some parts. But don’t worry, you will not need to know how to swim to cross it.”

“Do you know how to swi—” I stopped short, painfully reminded of Kelson’s letterman jacket. He’d said he’d gotten it for swimming.

Breeohan glanced over at me, but I stayed silent. He answered my unfinished question anyway. “The capital is by the sea and a river outlet, so I do. But many from the inner desert are never near deep water. They have no need to learn.”

“Do you have swim teams?” I asked, trying to see how much Kelson had made that up.

“What’s that?”

I wondered how much background study Kelson had done on my country before approaching me. At least now I knew why he’d gone on and on about the marvels of modern technology. What I still couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t brought heavy artillery with him to accomplish whatever he’d been trying to do. My only guess was that the trip might have ruined the stuff. After all, my watch and calculator had stopped working.

I walked faster, thinking of what Kelson might be doing to Mom. Was she okay? If he’d hurt her, I would never rest until I found him and brought him to justice. I noticed vaguely that Breeohan had been watching the changes of expression cross over my face. I breathed hard from speed walking, and Breeohan caught my arm to stop me.

“What’s wrong?” Concern reflected in his bright purple eyes.

“Have you ever heard of a guy named Kelson?” I stopped, realizing I didn’t know his last name. “He can do this pattern magic stuff, like you, but I think he’s older.” I thought of the picture I had drawn of him.

“I’m sorry. I know of no one by that name. Why do you want to know? Are you seeking him at the king’s city?”

“I doubt very much that he’ll be there. Unless . . .” I didn’t know anything about Iberloah. What if Kelson had been a mage for the king and was acting under his orders? If that were true, I couldn’t trust the king to help me. I looked suspiciously at Breeohan. What if he knew too? What if he was sent to bring me to the king since Kelson had failed? I shook myself.
Get a grip, Mary. The world does not revolve around you
. I was becoming suspicious of everyone, but it seemed unlikely that Breeohan could have anything to do with the plot against Mom and me, even if the king were involved. I felt like I was in a suspense movie surrounded by plotting enemies. That thought made me laugh. But one thing was sure, with no phones and no Internet, communication would be much more difficult here. There was no way Kelson could even know I had followed him to Iberloah.

“What is your king like? Do you know him at all?” I asked abruptly.

“You keep asking me questions and never answer mine. I will not answer your question until you answer at least one of mine.”

“Which one?”

“Why did you look so worried? Who is this Kelson?”

That was two questions, but I decided I might as well tell him what had happened. If he didn’t decide I was crazy, maybe he could help somehow. “I’m worried because this man, Kelson, kidnapped . . .” that word sounded strange. “He took my mother against her will right from our home. He did this huge complicated pattern and disappeared. I tried to follow by copying what he did, but I got it wrong and ended up in Iban instead of where he went. So now I’m going to the king to see if he’ll help me find her. Can you tell me whether he’s the kind of king who will help?”

“Wait. I’ve never heard of a pattern that will allow a person to travel quickly from one place to another. It isn’t possible.”