On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2) (19 page)

“Have you known him to kid about anything, ever?” Soris flung one burlap bag over his shoulder.

“That one’s yours.” Annin smiled as she pointed to the other bag. She turned to follow Benedict out of the tree line. Andris was already well into the long grass of the meadow.

Nat lifted the bag. It settled against her back, and the aroma curled around her. Soris laughed at her scrunched-up face.

“Come on, Natalie. After today, a little rudit stench is nothing.” He smiled, but his human eye held a hint of concern.

“Soris, this cheese is the worst thing I’ve ever smelled,” she said, seeing only his smile and not the apprehensive look in his eye.

“We’ll carry them together.” He reached for her hand and pulled her up the embankment, holding on to her a moment longer than necessary.

“Thanks.” Another waft of the rancid aroma went up her nose. She walked a few paces, wondering how anyone could eat anything that smelled this bad. “Coming?” she asked after glancing over her shoulder to find Soris still holding the branch and staring across the river.

“Yes. I’ll be there in a moment.” He scanned the banks of the river one more time and hurried after Nat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Nat chewed an oily nut and stared at the night sky. The stars shone with a shocking brightness. She wadded up her cloak and rested her head against the wool fabric. The smell of rudit permeated the air around her. She sniffed the cloak, turning her face away in disgust. Grass swished behind her. She bolted upright and drew her sword.

“Relax.” Soris eyed the point of the blade.

“You startled me.” She sheathed the sword. The Nala attack had left her agitated and jumpy.

He lowered himself into the grass next to her. “Here, compliments of Andris.” He handed her a dry piece of bread slathered with rudit. “Give it a try,” he said with a smile.

“I can’t tell what smells worse, me or this cheese.” She held her breath and nibbled the crust.

Soris leaned toward her and breathed in. “Definitely you.”

“Thanks,” she said, knowing she’d opened the door to the light insult. She turned toward him and studied his face. The anger and pain she’d seen so often when he looked at her was gone. She felt a sense of relief wash over her. He held her gaze with his own steady expression.

“You’re welcome.” His lips were inches from hers. She felt suddenly warm despite the cool evening air. His fingers came to rest over her trembling hand. “You’re shaking.”

“I must still be rattled from the attack,” she lied. She let out a little laugh. “I haven’t even thanked you for saving me.”

“You would’ve killed the Nala in another second.” He leaned back on one elbow and took a bite of his bread. In the darkness she couldn’t see the blue shade of his skin. His head was tilted in a way that obscured his Nala eye. She watched him chew his food and stare at the stars as if everything in his life were normal. Melancholy settled over her like a heavy blanket when she thought how far from normal his life and his future were.

“Have you thought about what you’ll do once Estos returns to Rustbrook?” she asked.

He turned on his side so he was facing her. “You think we’ll beat Mudug and I’ll survive the effort. I like that optimism even if it is a stretch.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“I don’t know, Natalie. I haven’t given it much thought.” His expression changed as he pondered her question. Lines formed across his forehead. “It’s not like I can go back to our farm like this.” He gestured to his face.

“Why not? I’m sure people that worked with your family would work with you.”

“With the old me, yes. But with a duozi, doubtful.” He shrugged.

“What about the Healing House? You could help the Sisters and the other duozi,” she said, refusing to give up on the idea of him returning to the safety of the House.

He groaned. “You don’t give up with the life behind walls. Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate what Ethet and the other Sisters did for me there, but the idea of returning to the Healing House for good is not appealing.”

“Why not?” she pressed. “You could work with the duozi children. I saw how they respond to you.”

“Or I could kill Mudug so he stops trading kids to the Nala. What’s the point of fixating on the future when he’s still in power?” He rolled onto his back and clasped his hands behind his head. She glanced up at the stars and wished for the thousandth time that she could turn back time and change everything that had happened to him that day at the river.

“What about you?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. “What are your plans?” He looked at the stars, not her.

“My plan at the moment is to stick by you to make sure you don’t go off half-cocked and do something stupid, like try to kill Mudug by yourself when we rescue Emilia. I want him gone like you, but a brute attack won’t end him. The man’s too tricky.”

“True, but now you’re the one evading questions. You have a life somewhere else. A family. How will you live it after you leave Fourline?”

Her mind went blank. Her home and her family were so far away. “I have no idea,” she said with such intense honesty that Soris sat up and reached for her hand.

“Natalie—”

“Blasted duozi!” Benedict’s voice cut across the meadow. “You almost poked my eye out!” His string of loud curses dislodged nesting doves from a nearby tree. Soris’ gaze flickered over Nat’s shoulder and he dropped her hand.

“Annin must be stitching up Benedict’s wound.” He sat back, pressing his hands into the grass behind him. “His head wound hasn’t stopped bleeding. Andris told Annin to take care of it.”

Nat frowned, wishing for just a few more moments of unbroken peace with Soris. “Andris should stitch Benedict up himself,” she said sharply.

“My brother isn’t your favorite person, is he?” He tilted his chin toward the end of the meadow where Andris stood.

“It’s hard to like someone who loathes you.”

“Annin’s point to you just this afternoon.”

“Ouch,” she replied, realizing the truth in his statement.

Soris gave her a crooked smile. “Besides, he doesn’t really hate you.” He glanced in his brother’s direction, then turned to her. “I’ve been thinking lately about how trapped he must have felt in your world. Maybe it’s like how I feel trapped being a duozi. I think you remind him of being stuck and unable to do anything to stop Mudug or really help Estos. I wouldn’t want to be holed up someplace unable to live the way I want to live or do what I know needs to be done.” His expression was calm, but Nat heard the challenge in his voice.

“I’ll give Andris credit for something. He stayed where it was safe until he could return home.”
Something you should do, too,
she thought.

“I knew you were going to turn that around on me.” He shrugged. “No more talk about our lives after this mission. Eat your bread.” He gestured to the crust that Nat had dropped. “Take a big bite.”

Her nose wrinkled.

“Go on, it’s not going to kill you. You got attacked by a Nala today and you’re balking at eating a piece of cheese?”

She bit into the bread. A smooth flavor filled her mouth.

“What do you think?”

“A creamy rancidness.”

Soris took a bite of his bread. Crumbs fell onto the front of his tunic. She flicked the crumbs to the ground. A spider the size of her thumb climbed out of the folds of his tunic and onto her finger. She stiffened. The corner of Soris’ Nala eye crinkled. The spider crept off her hand and disappeared into the grass. Nat shuddered.

“Don’t tell me you’re frightened of spiders?”

“No.” She examined the folds of his tunic and the blades of grass. Finding no more spiders, she lay on the grass next to him and looked at the sky. “As long as they keep their distance.” Soris lay next to her and they gazed at the blinking stars. Nat felt a tinge of homesickness as she searched the sky. “They’re so different.”

“Hmm?”

“The stars, the constellations.” She closed her eyes. “The surge of the unknown,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?” He turned toward her and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Sometimes when it’s quiet, I’ll notice something. Like the birds we saw today or these stars. They’re not my stars or my constellations. And then all these questions come to mind . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“How do you know they’re not your stars? You may be looking at them from a different angle, that’s all.”

“A different angle?”

“Why not?”

“I guess it’s possible.”

“It’s more than possible,” he said in a determined voice. “Name a summer constellation.”

“Ursa Major. It has this pan shape inside it.”

“Does it have a brighter star, like that one?” He pointed to a star low on the horizon.

“It has two really bright galaxies near the top of the bear’s head.” Her eyes darted from star to star, looking for the bright pair. “And this fuzzy nebula, I think it’s called the owl nebula.”

“What’s a nebula?”

“A big cloud of space dust and gas.” She yawned and glanced at Soris. His head was a few inches from hers.

“Space dust . . . ?”

“You need a telescope, like what Ethet had in her room in the Healing House, except bigger. Sometimes you can see them without a telescope. Look for something that’s bright, but with a weird shape. Like that one.” She pointed directly overhead. “To the right of that faint star. See it?”

Soris moved closer. His hand touched hers and followed the path of her finger into the sky. “That’s the nose of the long-eared hare constellation.” He traced a figure in the air. “See, its ears are hanging behind it as it smells the spring air. The nose is a nebula then? A bunch of dust?”

“I think so. That almost looks like Orion’s nebula.” Nat searched for the three familiar stars of Orion’s belt. She yawned again and her eyes grew heavy. The sound of Soris’ comforting voice grew faint and she drifted off to sleep.

The night sky darkened into an inky blackness. The nebula widened. Swirls of glowing gas and dust spread in every direction, filling up the darkness. A tendril curled toward her, enveloping her and pulling her up to the sky in a swirl of radiant light. The tendril thrust Nat’s body into space, far away from Soris and the verdant field. Tiny bursts of light played on her fingers, obscuring the shrinking planets and sun.

Streaks of red and purple danced before her eyes. She floated weightlessly past galaxies and ancient stars on the verge of collapse. The tendril condensed, and a thick blanket of dust settled around her. Then like a parting curtain, it separated. Nat was face-to-face with the long-eared hare.

The eyes of the hare were like giant pools. A galaxy swirled in the middle of each eye. She felt the velvety softness of the hare’s nose under her. Silver light spun in spirals, shaping the hare’s long, slender ears. The hare lifted its nose higher, taking Nat with it. It breathed in the luminescent dust.

Nat placed a pointed toe on the hare’s nose and pushed. Soft fur brushed her feet. She sailed between its enormous eyes and landed on the wide expanse between its ears. The hare sniffed the nonexistent air, pulling in bright dust and exhaling long puffs of the same. It cocked its gigantic head to the side. Its ears stood on end, and Nat felt its furry skin tighten beneath her. A cold white light flashed in front of them and compressed into the long shape of the Nalaide. The creature’s cruel black eyes fixed upon Nat.

The hare sprang to the side, away from the floating figure. Nat grasped the hare’s dark fur tightly, holding on as it bounced across space. Vibrations trembled through the hare’s body into hers. Its fear matched her own.

The curtain of luminescent dust parted again, and the hare shot out into the blackness of space. Nat turned her head. The Nalaide transformed into a streak of white light and cut through the dust storm, chasing after them. A deafening hiss filled the silence.

The hare streaked away and burst through a meteor cloud. It plunged into a red sun, trying to escape the light. Radiant flames dripped from the hare’s powerful legs. Nat felt a flash of heat followed by bitter cold. She let go of the thick fur and floated above the celestial creature. The hare’s enormous eyes blinked once, then it bounded away as Nat fell into a suffocating blackness. She pried her arm from her side and brushed the rough ledge of her dream space. Scraping her legs against the edge, she pulled herself over.

“Lights up,” she whispered. The beams pulsed at the ledge of her dream space. A white light swept past the beams, then disappeared.

Nat awoke and sat up, groaning at an ache in her hip. A quiet pink light spread along the horizon, pushing away the night. Soris lay on the ground next to her. His eyes were closed, but his face was contorted in pain.

“Soris, wake up.” She shook his shoulder and his eyes shot open.

“Natalie! Run, it’s after you!”

“Soris, nothing’s after me.” She gestured to the meadow, then let her hand fall into her lap. “What were you dreaming?” she asked, feeling uneasy.

His chest rose and fell quickly. He gripped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “The Nalaide tracked you through the sky.” He touched her face as if to assure himself she was really in front of him. “You were up there, balancing on the hare’s nose, and jumped between its ears. Then the Nalaide came for you.” He paused and a look of confusion came over his face. “How did I see that?”

“You’ve seen my dreams before, Soris, in Greffen’s cottage, remember?” she said, trying to calm him.

He loosened his hold on her hand. “This was different—sharper, fuller. I don’t even remember falling asleep. It was like I was instantly in your mind, watching you.” He paused and then suddenly flushed as if thinking of something embarrassing.

“What?” Nat asked.

“Nothing.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “Probably some residual connection with you because of the remnant,” he said, sounding unconvinced. “I mean, since I saw your dreams before.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense. The tie’s severed, and you just said this was different, sharper. Maybe we should ask Annin.”

“I’ll ask Annin,” he said too quickly, then paused in front of her. A worried look crossed his face. “But the Nalaide chasing you in your dream felt real to me, Natalie. I could feel it searching for you, focusing in on you.” His eyes met hers. “It felt real,” he repeated.