Questing Sucks! Book II (6 page)

At the rate Cah’lia’s patience continued to diminish, she figured she was only moments from losing her cool and attacking Sehn. There were days when she didn’t mind dealing with his nonsense, and there were times when she could almost tolerate his utter foolishness. But after spending hours in a humid zoo, her clothing still ripe with the scents of strange new animals, Cah’lia was ready to strangle the idiot.

Just breathe
,
she told herself.
Just take nice
,
slow breaths
.

The trip back to Mayor Rumpus’s home had been mostly pleasant, and with the sun having set in the sky, Cah’lia had wanted to spend the rest of her night relaxed, off her feet, and resting. That was the plan, anyway, but things didn’t work out the way she’d envisioned them. Before heading back, she’d needed to stop by the stables to check the condition of their horses, which resulted in her being the last to return to her quarters.

The moment she’d arrived back to her room, she’d known something was off. For one, a pair of black boots that didn’t belong to her rested in front of the doorway. Cah’lia was certain she’d left the curtains open, but they were now drawn. Though, neither of those things mattered once she’d seen the silk blanket covering a sleeping form across the room—it was all she’d needed to know a stranger was asleep in her bed. When the intruder had groaned and turned over, sure enough, the face belonged to none other than Sehn.

Now, as Cah’lia kicked the door closed behind her and marched over to the sleeping elf, she slowed her breathing and calmed her temper. Maybe there was a good explanation for this.

There probably isn’t
,
she thought.
What kind of shenanigans is he up to this time
?

She approached cautiously. With Sehn, she never knew if he was genuine or playing some foolish prank. Fortunately, Cah’lia had spent enough time traveling with the elf to know what he looked like when truly asleep. She could tell by the rise and fall of his chest and by the way his eyes softened and his bottom lip formed into something resembling a smile.

Why is he in here
?

Cah’lia wasn’t sure if she was more confused or angry at the invasion of her privacy. Who did Sehn think he was, barging in here and falling asleep in her bed? She grabbed his shoulders and gave him a shake.

“Sehn, wake up. Sehn!”

Sehn mumbled something and licked his chops, pulling the blanket tighter over his shoulder and then lying still. Cah’lia shook him again, but all he did was groan. A third shake, and his eyes opened just enough to reveal the lower half of his green pupils.

“C-Cah’lia?” Sehn whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Why are you in my bed?”

“In
your…
bed?” Sehn’s eyes popped fully open and he sat up, throwing the blanket off him and onto the floor. He then jumped off the bed and landed onto the soft carpet. He made a fighting stance, tightening his hands into fists and spreading his feet. “You will not have your way with me, Cah’lia!”

Like a flipped switch, Cah’lia’s mood turned from inquisitive to furious as Sehn’s accusation hit her. Did he actually think she was trying to…?

She trembled at the outrageous notion. “You’re the one in my room, you moron!” Sehn tried to back away, but she grabbed the front of his nightshirt and pulled him closer. “I want answers—now!”

Sehn surprised Cah’lia by grabbing at her wrist and squeezing until she released him. Regardless of whatever threats he spouted, Sehn was rarely ever rough with her, which meant something was bothering him. Cah’lia lowered her arm back to her side.

“I remember now,” Sehn said. “I wanted to wait for you here, but I became tired, so I decided to lie down for a few minutes.” He curled his lip in disgust. “I suppose those few minutes turned into a few hours.”

Her anger forgotten, Cah’lia nodded. “Why were you waiting for me?”

For some reason, the question seemed to sting Sehn, because he flinched and took a step backward, tripping over the bed and coming to a sitting position on the mattress. He looked down at the floor, and for a moment, Cah’lia thought she could see fear in his eyes. No, not fear. Shame. Warning bells rang off in her mind. She took a seat on the bed next to him.

“Sehn, what’s wrong?”

Rather than snap at her or respond with threats, he whispered, “This is a mistake. I should go back to my room.”

I must be hearing things
,
Cah’lia thought.
Sehn just said he made a mistake
.

His ears twitched as he stared at the floor, and Cah’lia knew then that whatever troubled him must’ve been serious. She wasn’t certain how to proceed. With Sehn, the slightest mistake in wording would send his pride into overdrive and he’d storm out while sentencing her to an eternity of hell. Thus, she needed to be delicate.

“If you don’t tell me, I won’t be able to help you.”

Sehn released an animal-like growl. “The Great Sehn requires no help!”

Cah’lia placed a hand on his knee and kept alarm out of her voice. It was a foolish mistake—telling Sehn she could “help” him should’ve been an obviously poor choice of words. Yet the fact that he remained was far more troubling than if he’d scrambled away.

“I believe you. But sometimes help can make your life a bit easier, right? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Sehn lifted his chin slightly and shifted his eyes in her direction. She could see from the way his brow tightened that he thought deeply on her words. Sehn had never been the type to sulk—at least not for long.

“I shouldn’t,” he whispered. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Cah’lia kept her voice steady. “You’re sure
what
is nothing
?”

Sehn’s lips quivered for a moment—unusual for him. “I…I don’t know if I…Cah’lia…”

Cah’lia began to panic. It took great effort not to grab his shoulders and demand to know what was wrong. She’d promised herself she’d be a rock: an anchor for Sehn. She needed to remain strong, for both their sakes.

“It’s okay,” she said calmly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Sehn placed his hand on top of the one she was resting on his knee. “I don’t think I’ll be walking for much longer,” he said. “Something is wrong.”

Cah’lia’s breath caught in her chest. Reminding herself to breathe, she paused a moment, then asked, “What do you mean?”

She felt his hand tighten around hers. “Everything hurts, Cah’lia. I didn’t think much of it at first. But now it’s with me everywhere. When I ride a horse, when I try to eat—it doesn’t end. It gets worse with every day. This morning when I opened my eyes, everything was dark. I was blinded, and I…I was afraid that I wouldn’t see ever again. But it’s nothing compared to the pain. At first it was just in my muscles, but now it’s inside me, too. It’s like…it’s like a knife is stabbing at me, and it doesn’t stop. Or more specifically, it’s like I’ve got all this…
power
and it needs to come out. I cannot explain it. My hearing has worsened, too. I strain to hear everything that’s said so no one will notice, but each day I take in less and less.”

“Is that all?” Cah’lia asked.

“No, there’s more. It’s getting harder to breathe, and I don’t know why. It shouldn’t be possible, any of this. But it hurts, Cah’lia. Everything hurts.”

Cah’lia briefly closed her eyes and collected herself. It was the only way to stop them from shedding tears. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Sehn tightened his grip on her hand yet again, and Cah’lia gripped back. “I need you to…” Sehn paused, lines of frustration forming on his face. Cah’lia could tell it was a struggle for him to continue speaking.

“I need you to know something. It’s something no one knows about, not even my own father. You must never tell anyone. In my room back in Elvar, under the floorboards near my window, I have a very large stash of gold coins that I’ve been saving for a long time. If…if there comes a need, I want you to give it to Rina and Nero, so that—”

“Enough,” Cah’lia pleaded. “Please, just stop.”

“But Cah’lia, I—”

“Not now, Sehn. Not now. You’re being an idiot.”

“
An…
idiot?”

Cah’lia nodded. She knew what she had to say next. It would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do—the worse lie she’d ever tell.

“It sounds to me like you’re coming down with a cold common to these parts. It does all the things you’ve said.” She turned off her brain and commanded her lips to form a playful grin. “Don’t tell me the Great Sehn is terrified of a little cold?” Cah’lia didn’t know how, but she managed to make herself laugh. “I can’t wait to tell Patrick about this.”

“A cold?”

“Of course, Sehn. It’s a common thing around here. They say it’s terribly painful, but the strongest and bravest are rarely bothered by it.”

Sehn pushed her hand off his lap and jumped to his feet. “Hah! I was just trying to trick you, Fool’lia. The Great Sehn feels no pain. You have seen through my deception, and for that you shall be awarded eight friendship tokens, redeemable in hell.”

Sehn laughed at her. “Did you really believe that I would say such pathetic words? Not in this lifetime. Now, I shall return to my own room and leave you be. Let this be a lesson for you.”

Cah’lia watched as Sehn half-walked, half-limped to the other end of the room and pulled the door open before slamming it shut again behind him. The moment he left her sight, Cah’lia counted to five before jumping to her feet and dashing across her quarters—there was no way she’d make it to the washroom near the kitchens. She ripped the decorative flowers out of a pot in the corner of the room, turned it over to let the soil and dirt inside fall out, and then setting it upright again, she placed it down and leaned over it. She didn’t remember what she’d eaten that day, but as she retched and her stomach convulsed, she emptied it all out into the flowering pot.

Panting, she tried to stand to her feet, but the nausea returned an instant later and she vomited a second time, and then a third. Yet it was the taste of deception—of betrayal—that most soured her tongue. She shivered as she replayed the conversation in her mind.

She didn’t know for how long she vomited, but by the time she’d finished, Cah’lia fell to the carpets, exhausted. She wiped her lips with the back of her sleeve and buried her face into the floor, hushing her whimpers. She gripped the sides of her head and slammed her mouth shut to suppress a scream. She writhed and came close to pulling the hair out of her head. She had lied. She was liar. She was disgusting. And what a lie to tell, too. A lie which suited a monster. She wasn’t any better than Patrick or Saerith, who used Sehn no differently from the way a blacksmith used his forge.

When her violent bout of emotion had finally passed, Cah’lia crawled to a nearby wall and leaned against it. There were some promises that couldn’t be kept. She cradled her knees to her chest and wept into her hands.

“I’m sorry, Sehn. Please forgive me.”

She felt foolish, but not as foolish as she probably looked, sitting there and bawling like a newborn. What was she supposed to say? Could Sehn even handle the truth? She didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. All she knew was what Saerina and Patrick had told her—Sehn’s death was a matter of when, not if, and the when was approaching rapidly.

The desire to vomit faded while her eyes ran dry of tears. When she returned to bed for the night, she could feel the warmth from Sehn still in the blankets and sheets. She wrapped them around herself, as they were all that would stop her shivers.

“What am I supposed to do? Why won’t anyone tell me what I’m supposed to do?”

As Cah’lia trailed off to sleep, she decided to speak with Saerina the next chance she was able. Both the humans and elves alike had a common saying—where there’s a will, there’s a way. Cah’lia had no clue how, but some way, through some means, she’d keep Sehn alive.

There’s always a way
.

Sehn let out a small grumble as the sound of ringing bells woke him from his sleep for the third time in the last hour. He buried his face in one of the fancy silk pillows and wrapped it around his head, covering his ears.

The first time the loud bells had been rung—an annoying sound that caused vibrations to rattle the bedposts—Sehn had propped himself up on his elbows, alert, his eyes scanning the dark room for any sign of danger. Then he’d remembered Patrick’s warning to him the night prior, and he fell back to sleep, or tried to, at least.

Now, as the first rays of morning light entered the sole window in one of Mayor Rumpus’s many exotic suites, Sehn tried his best to tune out the piercing ringing, which seemed to only exist for the purpose of preventing his rest.

Gong
,
gong
,
gong
, they rang. Sehn almost managed to doze off during each of the few intermittent moments of silence, only to be startled back to wakefulness by more of the hideously annoying bells. Sehn was getting pissed off.

“I better not have to get up,” he grumbled to himself. “If they dare force the Great Sehn to get out of bed, I shall…I shall…Ugh, I’m too tired to care.”

Out of frustration, Sehn sat up in his bed and threw a pillow out of the window, which he’d left open to allow fresh air to enter inside. His back ached in protest at the sudden movement, and as he slid his legs off the bed and placed his feet on the carpeted floor, the weight on his knees sent shooting pains from his toes up to his hips.

It’s just a cold
,
Sehn reminded himself.
Nothing but a Gods-cursed cold
.

Now that his blissful slumber had been ruined, Sehn had nothing better to do than see what all the damn commotion was about. Patrick was going to pay for allowing this. Though it was true he’d warned Sehn to retire early the prior night, claiming important visitors would be arriving in the morning, Sehn didn’t care. And why would he? If the Great Sehn required sleep, then it was the world’s job to be quiet.

He slipped on a grey tunic and trousers then limped his way over to the suite’s door. On most mornings these days, it was at first difficult for Sehn to walk. His body seemed to grow stiff after several hours of sleep, requiring a few minutes of limping until he managed to warm up. And to think, the Great Sehn, crippled by nothing more than a little cold. It was humiliating.

Sehn made his way down the estate, ignoring the servants as he passed, who pestered him and offered water and food. He had no time to be bothered, at least not until he knew what was so damn important that this wretched thing needed to keep him from sleeping.

Arriving at the head of the stairs that led down into the foyer, Sehn tightly gripped the banister and supported himself, climbing down slowly enough not to risk falling. He crushed the worries that tried to form in his mind, thoughts which nagged at him, asking Sehn why a God needed to hold onto something when descending a flight of stairs. Sehn reminded himself that he’d be fine in a few minutes. He just needed to stretch, that was all.

But what if one day stretching doesn’t do it for me
?
Sehn wondered.
What if even after minutes of walking
,
the stiffness doesn’t go away and I’m forced to limp everywhere
?

Sehn, ignoring the confused stares of nearby servants, slapped himself on his own cheeks and shook his head. “What kind of foolish thoughts am I having?” he asked aloud. He swished his mouth as if tasting something disgusting. “Lately I don’t deserve to be me.”

Since the day Patrick had told Sehn about the Items, shortly before his first meeting with Wolly, Sehn had increasingly desired to return home. At first, it was nothing more than the slightest hint of need. Each tree traveled by, each elf spotted along the road—they all reminded him of Elvar. Still, it’d been manageable, and Sehn was able to chalk it up to nothing more than a simple case of homesickness. But now, as he really took in his surroundings, the full depth of his longing hit him.

He wasn’t sure why, but it was something about the way the rich humans lounged on the elaborate furnishings in the foyer, or the way the Kingdom nobles sipped tea from golden goblets. For years, being rich and having servants was the only thing in the world that mattered to Sehn. It was his goal in life.

But now it isn’t
,
he realized.
I just want to go home
.

This wasn’t what he wanted—any of it. Even through the smiling faces of men, with servant women lounging seductively on their laps, Sehn could see no pleasure or joy within their eyes. There was only tightness, and something else—fear. Their grand lifestyle came at a price, which was the constant fear of losing their wealth, a fear that sapped all the pleasure out of having it. And what was life if not something to be enjoyed? More so, for a God like Sehn.

The bells rang again, removing Sehn from his thoughts. He wanted to see what the source was of all this racket.

His legs loosened up as he crossed the distance to the estate’s entrance, and by the time he approached the door, he was back to his usual, commanding glide. He quickened his pace and marched through the streets.

Hahl’s gates were livelier than usual, even factoring in the constant activity since the battle a few days earlier. Sehn looked around for any sight of Patrick, though he didn’t search for long. The human prince was standing with Alan Marshall and Princess Saerina flanking his sides several feet beyond the western gates to the city.

Soldiers still took up defensive positions along the walls above Sehn, but their bows and crossbows were slung over their backs, and there seemed to be cheer in their expressions. The area had been cleared of the dying and wounded, now moved into the proper facilities, and the prisoners had been herded off to nearby garrisons, which angered Sehn. He had not given such an order.

Sehn wasted no time. He stomped his feet on the ground as he stormed his way over to Patrick. The courtyard was filled with guards and soldiers, though they no longer wore their battle armor of the previous days. Now, their armor was white, pristine, and clearly more for show than for fighting in. What in the Gods was happening here?

“Patrick!” Sehn called.

He, Alan, and Saerina all turned at the sound of Sehn’s mighty voice. Patrick frowned the instant his eyes fell over Sehn’s. Alan grinned, and Saerina remained mostly expressionless, though a bit of worry did creep into her face.

Good
,
Sehn thought.
All should be worried when the Great Sehn arrives
.

“Hail, Sehn,” Patrick said formally. “A good morning to you.”

Sehn fought to control his anger. “How dare you wish me a good morning?”

Patrick sighed. “I’ve given up trying to figure you out.” He turned his head towards the gates, and his posture tightened. “They’ll be here soon,” he said before looking back.

“Who will?” Sehn asked. “It better be someone important, because your foolish warning bells have been ruining my sleep.”

Patrick shifted uneasily on his feet, as if unsure how to respond. Saerina placed a hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed, nodding in what appeared to be thanks.

“Sehn,” the princess began, “when the enemy was first discovered marching on Hahl, messengers were dispatched to the lords of all the major Kingdom cities, so that reinforcements could be sent our way. Today Patrick expects several of the lords to arrive with their armies, though they are in fact too late—we have persevered.”

Sehn grinned. “Thanks to me.”

“And me,” Alan said. Sehn locked eyes with the man, and the old commander took a step back. “Of course, you more than me, Great Sehn,” he added.

Sehn peered out into the distance. He could just make out dust rising into the air from the muddy, barren roads that led to the Kingdom’s Pillar of Therril. They’d probably arrive in under an hour.

“I don’t get it,” Sehn said. “Why are they even bothering now? We won, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Patrick agreed. “But remember, what we were hit with was only a small part of their overall force, and now that a major city has been attacked, the lords are gathering to the Kingdom’s defense. By my estimation, there will be just short of thirty-thousand troops in the area by nightfall.”

Alan grunted in acknowledgement. “We sure could’ve used that many during the fight. Would’ve saved us a great deal of trouble—and lives.”

With everything explained, Sehn nodded. “Patrick, I command you to dispatch a messenger at once, ordering these fools to march more quietly so I can sleep.”

Patrick averted his eyes a moment, which was odd. “Here’s the thing,” he whispered. “I cannot command these men. Not that I’d ever give such a ridiculous order in the first place, but I genuinely can’t.”

“What do you mean?” Sehn asked.

“I mean what I said: I can’t tell these lords what to do.”

“What kind of prince can’t order his subjects?”

“All right, look,” Patrick said. He waved an arm in the direction of Therril and then in the direction of The Valley of Hahl. “I am Prince Patrick Vasilis of the Kingdom of the Seven Pillars, but I am not King Patrick Vasilis, do you understand? In other words, my power is only that of a lord until I take my father’s place. These men that arrive—I am their equal in power, if not standing.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Saerina continued, “is that, at best, he shall be able to influence these men, but he cannot command them. Now that the Kingdom faces a legitimate war, the lords must assemble their armies to protect the realm.”

“How many are coming?” Sehn asked. He was vaguely interested.

“Seven of them will most likely arrive today,” Patrick said. “For sure we can expect Lord Ramont of Koringrath and Lord Alex of Therril. I don’t know how much Kingdom politics your father taught you.” He shot Sehn a quizzical look, and then amended, “Or how much you paid attention to, I should say. But much like in your own elven society, each Kingdom city operates as a fiefdom, ruled by a lord and governed by his appointed mayor. Now, you might be wondering who the lord of Hahl is.”

Pride beamed in Patrick’s eyes, and he crooked a thumb at his chest. “Believe it or not, every prince is granted a city on his thirteenth birthday. My father gave me Hahl and recommended me Mayor Rumpus. I didn’t want the odd little man, but his family has governed here for many hundreds of years, and it is considered ill to soil tradition.”

Understanding dawned on Sehn. So that was why Patrick had fought so ruthlessly to defend this place, and it also explained why, on occasion, Sehn had heard the men refer to Patrick with the title “My Lord.” Still, Sehn felt a bit of anger at Patrick’s words. What he should have said was that Hahl
used
to be—not was—his city. It was Sehn’s now. Hahl belonged to Sehn, for he had conquered it.

“No it doesn’t, and no you didn’t,” Saerina said, as if reading his mind. “Behave yourself, Sehn.”

Sehn gave her a sour expression. “How about you mind your own fucking business, Princess Bitchrina? Who the fuck asked you for your input?”

The Princess’s normally uncaring face turned red with anger, and she snarled like a rabid wolf. “Every day I know you drives me closer to—”

Alan laughed and simultaneously clapped both Sehn and the princess on the back, causing Sehn to flinch at the unexpected strength that caused the middle of his back to
not
hurt, and Saerina to scowl as she looked at his grinning face. Sehn wasn’t positive, but the two seemed to be having some sort of romantic fling, because a moment later, the heat diminished from her eyes and she merely curled her nose at him in a way that lesser beings might consider “cute.”

“Will you two lighten up?” Alan asked.

Saerina dramatically inhaled, then exhaled in a soft hiss, running her hands slowly down the sides of her blue dress. “I rarely ever lose my cool,” she said. “Yet since meeting Sehn—and you, Alan—I find myself struggling every day to remain sane.”

She let out an exaggerated squeal as Alan grabbed her rear and grinned down at her. “I wouldn’t be able to stay sane either if the Kingdom’s finest commander was my lover. The finest commander, and…” Alan winked at Sehn. “Disciple to our great overlord, Sehn the almighty.”