Page 22 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame
‘It really is a work of art, Cahra.’
After what she’d been through getting to him and getting the sword out of harm’s way, she almost cried.
‘Thank you,’ she told him, then swallowed, his brief pleasantry giving her the confidence she needed to finally ask, ‘Where are we going?’
Terryl’s reply was swift. ‘To Luminaux.’
‘What?’ Cahra recoiled. Luminaux was an enemy of Kolyath. The thought of her arrest on arrival didn’t exactly appeal. ‘Seers, why?’
Terryl stared out the window, the piney conifers giving way to old, unyielding oaks, before returning her gaze. ‘It is my homeland.’
She studied him: his eye contact, his tone, all the way to how he arranged his limbs as he spoke the words to her. It was the truth. And suddenly, it all made sense. Why he wasn’t like other high-borns in Kolyath, and how being a merchant lord factored in.
Cahra hummed. ‘You weren’t joking when you said you had other options.’
‘Kolyath is one kingdom that I have resided in. Luminaux is my home.’
Cahra weighed Terryl’s words, saving the unexpected sting of being misled for later. ‘So you’re not arming the Steward in the war, like Raiden said at Kolyath’s gate?’
‘Certainly not,’ Terryl said, laughing. Raiden snorted.
Cahra pressed on. ‘And what about me? Am I your prisoner?’
Terryl looked horrified. ‘Absolutely not! While I wish to return home, your safety is still my concern. Further, I should like to request something of you: an audience with my kingdom’s King and Queen. They must hear of your story, and of Kolyath more generally.’
She considered. ‘And then?’
Terryl spread his hands. ‘That is yours to decide. You will have permission to remain in Luminaux, should you wish it. However, if you desire otherwise, you shall be free to go.’
Another honest answer. Cahra rolled her shoulders and leaned back, exhaustion from the day’s ordeal taking hold. It was clear Terryl seemed to need her, at least for the time being.
‘Fine. But if I’m no prisoner, and assumedly under protection until we get to Luminaux, someone needs to tell your people.’ She glared at Raiden.
‘Of course,’ Terryl replied, Raiden’s eyes burning in indignation.
With a smug smile, Cahra asked, ‘Any more questions?’
‘No. For now,’ Raiden added, shooting Terryl a look.
She nodded, her eyelids sagging with drowsiness that crashed in great waves. The downy gold pillow curved at her back, the coach’s rocking to the horses’ rhythmic hooves – everything served to soothe her aching body. She tuned out Terryl and Raiden’s talk of those travelling with them, unable to hide a yawn.
Then Cahra slept. For a while, at least, her body pushing to permit her a short period of actual rest. Eventually, all was quiet.
But so cold, an unshakeable chill descending…
CHAPTER 10
Terryl found himself watching Cahra sleep, her earthy hazel eyes, usually so vibrant, now shuttered and slumbering peacefully. She had wedged her body into the seat’s far corner, as if seeking safety even now in his private carriage. It was a glimpse of vulnerability that he had not yet seen from her, and it stirred an intense protectiveness in him.
Terryl stared outside at the thick, gnarled trunks and aerial roots of the ancient Wilds. The blackened cavity of a hollow tree seemed to gaze right back at him. Yet they had escaped, his disguise had worked and their mission, though precarious, was intact. Now, all they had to do was reach the safety of Luminaux’s lands.
Exhaling, Terryl recalled his first uncertain steps into Cahra’s kingdom of Kolyath. After Luminaux, things were so different: the snow-laced chill of the craggy coastline; the gloomy grey-green vegetation with its feral petals splayed in burnt yellows and oranges; the sombre palette of black, grey and mottled brown birds and their dreadful, bleating cries. All had been a portent of things to come.
Raiden, seemingly satisfied that Cahra was actually dozing and not privy to their conversation, leaned back. ‘What do you make of her story?’
‘I believe that she is telling the truth, insofar as she knows,’ Terryl replied softly.
Raiden frowned. ‘Which is less than I imagined.’
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