The Go-Between (The Nilaruna Cycles Book 1) (3 page)

“He couldn’t bear it. So he
decided to die, just like that. Surely death would be preferable. He stopped
eating and drinking, and carried on with his work, content to die in the fields
where he at least felt a little bit free.

“On the third day of his fast, he
was hooked up to the rusty plow and whipped by the plowman as he plodded through
the dirt. He stumbled several times, and his entire body shook. He was
weakening, and he doubted he’d live through the day.

“The plowman, now, he was not a
bad man, as these things are measured. He beat the colt, yes, but only to get
the work done. After all, if the work was not completed on time, he himself
would be beaten. He was doing his job. And this was especially tough for him
since his wife had passed in childbirth six moons before. The colt knew nothing
of this, except that the plowman sometimes brought his babe to the fields when
his sister could not care for her. The gurgling baby girl would sit on a
blanket at the edge of the orchard, in the plowman’s line of sight, and pass
the day in the shade. The colt didn’t particularly like the babe, as the
plowman always seemed to whip the horse more on the days the babe was there.
Perhaps he wanted to finish quickly.

“So the colt was weak and
trembling, waiting for his legs to give out, when suddenly a cry rang out from
the stables: ‘Wolf!’

“Both colt and plowman froze,
scanning the fields. And then both of their gazes found the babe, and the
plowman gasped, the colt chuffed. There was the wolf, stalking silently not
twenty paces from the blanket.

“The plowman dropped the plow and
ran, but the colt knew he’d never make it in time. The colt shook his head,
gathered his strength, and ran.

“He flew across the field, dirt
flying in every direction as the plow furrowed the earth. He quickly overtook
the plowman, and continued racing, even as he watched the wolf pounce and clamp
his jaws around the babe’s neck. He never slowed. While the wolf was
distracted, he bulled right into him, sending the babe flying in the air, but
he promptly caught her in his own mouth and gently lowered her to the ground.
Where she whimpered. It was the most beautiful sound the colt had ever heard.

“The beast was down. Before he
could rise, the colt gave him a swift kick to the head and killed him.

“The plowman cradled his daughter
and comforted her. She was crying and bloody, but not mortally wounded. She
would grow up to be a great healer.

“The plowman named the horse
‘Protector.’ He prayed to the gods for great blessings upon the horse, and from
that day on, the horse was revered. His name was whispered. He was the
‘Protector.’ And he lived forever.”

***

“You were a horse?” Nilaruna asks.

“It was a metaphor,” I say. “A
poor one, apparently.”

“Oh,” she says. “I thought,
maybe, it really happened.”

“Some of it did, some didn’t, but
the point was —”

“I understood the point,” she says.
“But really, I’d like to know. Did you become Protector under such dire
circumstances?”

I shift against the wall.
“Something like, yes.”

“Then you are a good man.”

I cringe at her words, but don’t
say anything.

“You do know how to protect,” she
insists. “It’s instinctual.”

And I sense a change in her as
she speaks those words. Perhaps it is her trust in me, taking shape and
solidifying. Perhaps it is a renewed determination in her duty. Perhaps it is
neither of these.

“Nilaruna, I do know how to protect,
and you have reminded me that the individual is as important as the village.
Maybe more so. Despite the spell and its bounds, I have been derelict in my
duty. And I shall be no longer.”

“Thank you, Maja,” she says, head
bent. “You honor me.”

I sigh, knowing what I must say
next. “Nilaruna, I
must
protect, now
more than ever. I cannot allow harm to come to you. With that said,” and I
pause.

“Yes?”

“I cannot allow you to leave this
cave.”

And before Nilaruna can even
gasp, I throw my magic at her and take her in my thrall.

***

I
enter her mind.

Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think!

I flick my wrist at her and allow
her to speak.

“I am not reading your thoughts,”
I say, “and you can speak.”

“Then how do you know I’m trying
to keep you out of my head?” she shrieks.

I sigh.

“Release me. I will not run.”

“But I’m keeping you here.
Against your will.”

“You should have asked me,” she
says. “I would have stayed willingly. I have no wish to die, remember?”

Oh.

I pull the magic back and release
her.

We stare at each other, as much
as possible in the dark.

“Why did you think I’d run?” she
asks.

“None of the Go-Betweens has been
comfortable here,” I say. “They do their duty, but they always prefer to go
home.”

Nilaruna scowls. “But I just told
you I have nothing to go home to. Were you not listening?”

I frown. “But I would be forcing
you to stay. You would be my prisoner.”

Nilaruna sits up on her knees
again and holds her hands out, palms up. “I am only a prisoner if I am in your
thrall. Give me a choice, and my will aligns with yours.”

“Truly?” I say.

She smiles. “Truly.”

I swallow past the lump in my
throat. “Will you stay, Nilaruna? Where I can protect you?”

“Will you promise not to use your
magic on me again?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will stay.”

We sit in silence. I don’t enter
her head. It’s not my promise that keeps me from doing so, as magic is not what
allows me to connect with her. It is my own skill, one I was born with. But I
have my own thoughts to occupy me, chief among those why twenty-two of my
Go-Betweens died before their time. Presumably before their time.

Nilaruna, though, is not as
occupied.

“So, if I’m going to stay,” she
ventures, shifting on her cushion, “could I, you know, get a tour?”

“A tour?”

“Of the cave. I mean, where will
I sleep? What do you have to eat? Where do I, um…”

“Relieve yourself?” I offer.

She nods shyly.

I had not thought this through.

“I will conjure you a bed and
whatever you wish to eat. As for the other, stand up.”

She scoots off the cushion and
stands.

“Go forty-nine paces to your left
until you reach the wall.” She does. “Follow it forward until it ends, but be
careful. There is a ledge there, about knee high. You may squat over it.”

Her eyes grow wide. “It’s out in
the open?”

“Yes.”

“But…you will see me?” The terror
in her voice pierces me.

“I promise not to look.”

“But I wouldn’t know if you did,”
she whispers.

“I swear it.”

She nods, but it is unconvincing.

“I will leave you alone now,” I say,
and I turn away from her and amble over to the far right corner of the cave. I
hum an old lullaby in an attempt to give her privacy.

Before I am finished with the
first chorus, she speaks from her cushion. “What song is that?”

I startle and bang my head on a
low overhang.

“What?”

“The one you’re humming. What
song is that?”

“
Dragonblood and Moonsong
,” I say, rubbing my head.

“Ah yes, I thought I recognized
it. Odd choice for you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, it’s sort of a love song,
isn’t it?
By dragonblood and heart’s
first longing, I bid the moonsong hear my calling
. Did your mother sing it
to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe your…wife sang it to you?”

“I’ve never had a wife.”

“Never?”

“No.”

Nilaruna falls quiet, and I long
to hear her thoughts.

“How old are you?” she asks.

“Three hundred and twenty-two.”

“Wow. But you don’t sound that
old. You sound…gruff, hardened…but not old.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

“Do you…look old?”

I stare down the length of my
body and try to judge this. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

“How old were you when you became
Protector?”

“Young,” I say. “Around your
age.”

“And you still look this way?”
she asks.

“I have no way to know that,” I
say. “But I do not know anyone who looks the same after three hundred cycles.”

Nilaruna smiles. “You’ve no
mirror?”

“No.”

“Let me see.”

I stiffen. “Nilaruna.”

“Please, Maja. Please. We’re
going to be stuck together for who knows how long. You have seen me, scars and
all. It is only fair.”

“Fair,” I whisper. “This is not about
fair. No one has seen my true form in hundreds of cycles.”

“I cannot live in darkness,
Maja,” she whispers back. “Not forever.”

“It will not be forever,” I say.
“Just until we can figure out how to keep you safe.”

“What about morning?” she says.
“Daylight will come. I will see you then.”

“Daylight does not penetrate my
cave.”

“But…a cooking fire. Surely you
cook your food.”

“I conjure my food,” I tell her.
“I have no need of fire.”

“Warmth,” she says.

“We are warm,” I say. “Tell me
you are not.”

She actually growls in
frustration.

“Fine,” she says. “Conjure me a
bed. I’m going to sleep.”

“Nilaruna,” I say, and I hate the
pleading in my voice.

“Do not
Nilaruna
me,” she says. “You want me to trust you, and I have. I
do. But you will not give me the same courtesy.”

I hold my palms out to her as she
did to me earlier. But she cannot see them. “It’s not that. I trust you. But
this is something else.”

“What then?” she says.

“I just…cannot.”

“Fine.” She stands up, hands on
her skinny hips. “Bed.”

I wave my hand and a
feather-stuffed pallet appears in front of her.

“One pace straight forward,” I
say.

She flops down face first,
trusting me completely. I have never felt like an ass in my long life, but I
feel like one now.

“Nili,” I whisper in the dark.

She turns her head to my voice,
and her face softens. “It’s okay, Maja. I trust you.” And she closes her eyes
and sleeps.

***

I wake, and I know we’ve been sleeping for only a few hours. My head
is muzzy and aching from where I bumped it. I rub it carefully, feeling the
tender lump, and as I turn over to try to go back to sleep, I see her standing
over me.

“Nilaruna?” I ask. “Is everything
alright?”

She doesn’t answer. Her knife is
once again clenched in her fist.

I slip into her mind.

He wants me dead. He killed them all! Nishta is gone, sweet Nishta,
he let her die, he let her die, he let her die!

I know I promised not to enthrall
her, but I do not hesitate. My wrist flicks before I can stop it.

“Nilaruna!” I say.

She sways in place, and a whimper
escapes her lips.

“Nili! Drop the knife!”

She does.

I draw a drop of my magic back
in. “Nili. Talk to me.”

She gasps, but doesn’t speak.

“Can you hear me?”

“Maja?” She slowly opens her
eyes, blinking a few times.

“Nili, it’s me, Maja. Can you speak?”

“Yes, I’m…where am I?”

“My cave,” I say.

“Yes, I know, but…where?”

“My side of the cave. Do you not
remember walking here?”

Her brow furrows and her knees
buckle, but my magic is holding her in place. “No, I’d never…I mean, I wouldn’t
walk blindly through the cave. I cannot see!”

“I know,” I say. “I’m going to
set you down.” I gently lower her to the floor.

“You promised you wouldn’t use
your magic on me again,” she says.

“I know,” I say. “Nili, you came
at me again. With your knife.”

“I what?”

“You came at me with the knife.
You were thinking…you wanted to kill me.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Maja, no! I wouldn’t.”