Parabolis (26 page)

He saw it—his heart for Selah. As they walked through the challenging terrain, he would extend a hand to help her over a stream or scale a steep rock. Each time she took it, it thrilled him. He saw all the evidence of his feelings but he was unable to give himself to them. To enjoy her company was unimaginable. He recognized the part of him that wanted to linger with her in the Wilds, and yet he wanted more than anything to get out of there, to be at the Ancile. The painstakingly slow pace frustrated him.

I need to find Darius. I need to know that he’s okay.

Selah saw it in him—the troubled look, the surfacing elements of a man frantic inside. She understood that Dale feared for his brother, for his family, for his country.

Finally, they arrived at the borders of the Wilds Deep. Valkyrie recognized its borders by the line of trees leaning eastward. They leaned as if warding off trespassers tempted to venture further. The trees were in fact bent by the offshore winds from the World’s End and lack of direct sunlight within the Deep. It was said that the Wilds Deep was more perilous than the Wilds themselves, but Valkyrie assured them the change of environment would be a welcome break. And he was right.

The air was temperate, lightly salted from the steady ocean breeze. More importantly, there was plenty of space, clearing after clearing between the pillars of the legendary evergreens. They were known appropriately as the Skywards. Skywards were not only the largest trees in the world, they were the oldest. They were as wide and as high as a castle tower or city building. Their far-reaching branches and translucent leaves at the top created a seamless canopy through which the moon cast a soft green glow. The forest bed, having never been touched by unfiltered sunlight, was carpeted in moss. Around the base of the trees grew fungi in a myriad of bright colors. It reminded Dale of a candy store.

“Maker be praised.” Selah was especially awestruck. She ran her hand against the trunk of a Skyward. She stopped to take in the breeze. She raised her head with her eyes closed as if basking in the green-tinted moonlight. “This feels like a dream.”

It was no wonder to her why the grandeur of the Wilds Deep was inspiration to so many druidic songs.

Beside a little stream known among rangers as Portis Creek, the group set up camp on an embankment sheltered from the wind.

“How much longer in these deep roads?” asked Alaric, dropping an armful of gathered wood.

“We just got here, Champ. You eager to move on already?”

“From here? Yes. This place…it’s strange.”

“A welcome break, is what it is. I suggest you take it while you can. Tomorrow, we set off in the early morning and don’t stop until sunset. At least here we can move by day. If we keep pace, we should be in the borderlands in two nights.”

They refilled their canteens, started a fire, and snacked on some rations Selah had prepared—bread, thin slices of cured pork, dried persimmons, a dollop of preserves, pickled eggs, and a wedge of cheese. Dale stuffed his mouth and chewed vigorously, breathing heavy through his nose. After a week of nuts and berries, the modest meal prepared by campfire was an epicurean delight.

When they had finished supper, they took turns bathing in the stream. Selah took her bath first behind a hedge of long grass. Alaric Linhelm kept an eye on the men.

“Keep your eyes abroad, gentlemen. This is no show tease.”

Dale had to concentrate, keep his eyes fixed on the fire. Valkyrie however, was shameless in his voyeuristic attempts. He stole glances whenever he could. Alaric caught him and gave a stern warning. “Look that way again and you’ll get a close look at my fist.”

The men went in as a group after Selah got out of the stream. Dale found the stream to be tolerably cold. When they finished and were dressed, Selah approached Dale by the fire. She asked Dale to pull his shirt up so she could inspect his back.

“They’ve healed up quite nicely,” she said, “your wounds.”

“Yeah. But it itches like nothing else.”

Valkyrie held up two little mushrooms. “Do you know that it’s because of these little things that I’m stuck here with you?” he asked of Alaric Linhelm. In one hand, he held an elf ear. In the other, he held a karis truffle. “Can you tell the difference? No, you can’t. You know why? Because there is none.”

“Swindling is swindling.”

“You want to talk about swindling, talk about the snake-oil salesmen who push this nonsense…”

They carried on bickering like they were old men with nothing else to do. Across from them, Selah sat beside Dale.

“So how far north do you plan to go?” Dale asked her.

“Valorcourt,” Selah replied.

“Valorcourt? What for?”

“Alaric and I intend to make an appeal for peace to the duke.”

“And why would he listen to you?”

“We’re the only two Baleans represented in the Benesanti.” She sighed. “It is difficult to believe that an appeal will accomplish anything. I cannot imagine the duke listening to us. But we must do something.”

“What do you plan to say to him?”

“‘Stop this nonsense, right now.’”

Dale smiled at her attempt at humor.

“I don’t know,” Selah continued. “I think Champion Linhelm will do most of the talking. We have plenty of time to think about it.”

They sat in silence for a while. Dale noticed her saber.

“You know how to use that thing?” he asked as he tapped its handle.

“I wouldn’t be carrying it otherwise.”

“Never heard of a cleric that swings a sword.”

“What about you? You seemed reluctant to use yours back there.”

“Didn’t get a chance to, thanks to the ranger. But you’re right. I’ve used this thing enough as a Guardsman.”

“Do you believe in the sanctity of life then?”

“Not sure what I believe. But yeah, I didn’t much like killing anyone. Doesn’t it bother you—all that death back there?”

“By the Maker’s grace, I have never had to use the blade so I can’t speak for taking a life. But death is nothing new to me. As a cleric, I’ve seen many depart this world for the next.”

Alaric stood and walked a stone’s throw away from camp.

“Where’s he going?” asked Dale.

“To pray.”

Across the fire, Charles Valkyrie was already fast asleep.

“Your brother—the one you seek at the Ancile—he’s also a Republican Guard?” Selah asked in a hushed voice.

“Yeah. He was transferred around the time I was decommissioned.”

“Older or younger?”

“Older.”

“Are you close?”

Dale frowned. “Close enough to have our disagreements and still get along. You? You have any brothers or sisters?”

“I was an only child. What’s your brother’s name?”

“Darius.”

“Well, Darius will be in my prayers. I can see you’re burdened for him.”

“I appreciate it.”

Despite the sincerity of his words, Selah could sense Dale’s skepticism.

“You don’t believe in the Maker, do you?” she asked.

“Like I said, not sure what I believe about anything. I believe I’m here with you. And I believe I need to find Darius. That’s about all I can manage right now.”

Alaric returned to camp. As he walked past, he said, “You two should get some sleep.”

“I would, but it’ll be the end of me if I fall asleep with wet hair,” Selah replied. “Can’t afford a cold while trekking the Wilds, can I?”

“You won’t fare any better fatigued. Get some rest.”

Alaric Linhelm lay down next to the fire and crossed his arms. In a matter of seconds, he was snoring.

“Incredible,” said Dale.

“What’s that?”

“How he can fall asleep like that. Guess it’s true. A clear conscience is the best nightcap.”

“And how’s your conscience?”

“I’ll keep you company until your hair dries.”

They sat quietly listening to the popping of the campfire. In the background, they could hear the distant roar of the ocean. Dale looked up at the glowing ceiling of leaves. There was a full moon out. A harvest moon, hidden somewhere beyond the veil. The scent of the salted air made him miss home. He wished he had a smoke.

“You know, I’m glad that kid pick-pocketed me,” he then said.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“When I first saw you on the Groveland Express, the day I came into the city from Pharundelle, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. In fact, the whole ride from Lumarion, I was trying to come up with some clever way to talk to you. But nothing came to mind. And when I got off that train, I thought that was the end of it. I’d never see you again. Then that kid stole my coin purse and…” Dale glanced at Selah and couldn’t ignore her expression. With every word, she appeared to grow increasingly dejected. For weeks he had fantasized about telling her exactly how he felt. He imagined many scenarios, but her dejection was not one of them. “I’m sorry, is this inappropriate?”

“No,” Selah replied, trying to perk up. “I’m sorry. No, it’s not inappropriate. It’s just—”

“Is it because you’re a cleric?”

“Don’t be absurd. We’re encouraged to exercise temperance, obviously, but that doesn’t mean we’re forbidden from romantic relationships.”

“Is that what this is? A bit forward of you, don’t you think, Prioress?”

She smiled. Selah had a look that was both vexed and flattered. “It upsets me because I’m flattered that you find me attractive.”

“I don’t get it.”

“We hardly know each other. And you just think I’m a pretty face. That’s it. I shouldn’t be thrilled by that. So it’s disappointing that I am.”

“I can always take it back.”

“No, you can’t.” She laughed.

Dale looked at her and thought she looked more beautiful right then than he had ever seen her. “In that case, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“And what, exactly, is it that you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything. Where did you grow up? What were your parents like? Did you always want to become a cleric or did you lose a bet?”

“I don’t gamble. I grew up all over, from Valorcourt to Trinsington to Lumarion. As for my parents, I don’t know much about my father and I lost my mother when I was young. I was sent to the temple orphanage under the care of the College of Sisters. When I turned sixteen, I felt that it was my calling to go into service of the order that looked after me. So here I am. Satisfied?”

“How did you lose your mother?”

Selah’s shoulders curled and she looked away.

“She was killed.”

Despite his piqued curiosity, Dale could tell by Selah’s curt reply, bare of an explanation, that she did not want to talk about it. Fearing her precipitous withdrawal from their conversation, Dale quickly volunteered his own past. “I never knew my mother. She died on the delivery table while giving birth to me. From what I hear, she was a good woman. And my father passed away a little less than two years ago from heart failure. I was still on tour so I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.

Dale shrugged. “We weren’t very close. I mean, I know he loved us and everything, but he was distant. Sad.”

Selah studied Dale under the soft light. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Seems we share that much. A bit of sorrow in our story.”

“Yeah.” Dale smirked. Returning her gaze, he said, “See? I feel like we know each other a little better now and I still think you’re beautiful.”

She shook her head, smiling, and finally surrendered. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then she abruptly stood, stretched, and dusted off her bottom.

“It’s quite amazing, isn’t it?” she asked, looking up at the green ceiling above. “All of this. Strange, really. Never could have imagined a place like this actually existed.”

“Yeah. It is pretty amazing.”

A thin layer of fog-like dust had settled in around them.

“You ever see the World’s End?” she asked, looking down at Dale with a glint in her eye.

“Only on a map.”

“It’s a terrible shame to be so close and not see it.” Her voice had now taken on a playful tone.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Shall we, then?”

“What, you want to go see it?”

Selah nodded with an intrepid smile.

“Now?”

“My hair’s still wet.”

Dale shrugged. “Okay.”

With an eye on Alaric, they quietly climbed the embankment like mischievous children. A ten-minute stroll through columns of Skywards, and the canopy above showed signs of thinning. Then the sky opened up. A dark blue sky sprinkled with stars. A haze had settled on the ground of the forest like morning mist. The ocean grew louder.

“Come on!” said Selah, taking Dale by the hand.

They ran against the breeze and stopped just shy of the cliff’s edge. Some two hundred feet down the ocean lashed into the base of the cliff. They stood, side by side in silence, still holding hands. Selah was beaming. At the World’s End, they were children again—vulnerable and free, without pretense or doubt. And the world was as it should be.

“Did you know, according to the scriptures, humanity was born of the Maker’s kiss?” Selah asked.

Dale gave her hand a gentle tug. She looked at him and their eyes locked. His heart racing, he leaned over slowly enough to give her time to pull away. She didn’t. She closed her eyes and they kissed.

On their walk back, Dale and Selah noticed that the fog had grown thicker. They thought nothing of it until the earth below their feet began to shift.

“The ground is moving,” said Selah.

“You feel it too?”

When they arrived back at camp, they found Valkyrie and Alaric awake, and busily moving about. The fire was put out and the camp packed up. Their eyes were wide and their pupils dilated. Alaric looked panicked. And Valkyrie stood, just staring at his hands.

“Where were you?” Alaric barked at Selah.

“We went to see the World’s End,” Selah replied. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” Valkyrie replied, looking up. “It’s the spores. Of all the luck.”

“What spores?”

“The kind that make you go mad. Grab your things. The longer we stay…the longer we stay…wait, did I just say that?” Valkyrie shook his head and started rubbing his eyes. “Hurry! I’m starting to see things.”