Shrouded Sky (The Veils of Lore Book 1) (9 page)

“And that is better
how
?” Chandra demanded. She threw a hand over her mouth and looked around desperately. She needed a trash can, a plastic bag, anything she could empty the contents of her roiling stomach into.

Through a blur of hysteria Chandra caught sight of a fair-haired shape staggering toward her.

“Good god, Sachmei!” Orryn shouted. “What have you done to the girl?”

He reached out in an obvious attempt at rescue, but the moment his hands grabbed Chandra’s shoulders, she doubled over and vomited onto his feet.

Orryn gawked, then twisted his face with disgust. He released his hold and hobbled toward Sachmei who scurried back from the kitchen with a stack of cloths in hand.

“Do not track it all over the room, fool,” she snapped at him. “Here.” She tossed him a cloth.

Chandra clutched her side and sank onto the bed, struggling for breath.

“Do they hurt?” Panya asked, nodding toward Chandra’s ribs.

“Of course they hurt,” Chandra said. “They’re probably cracked into what . . . a million pieces?”

“The elementals are never kind,” Panya said with a sigh.

“Elementals?” Chandra frowned. “What is this, Dungeons and Dragons?”

Panya giggled. “Oh, there are no dragons
here
.”

“That’s good to know.” Chandra studied the girl. She was clearly Taubastet: tan leathers, spiked black hair, eyes outlined in kohl. “Where am I exactly?”

“In our den,” Panya said.

“Yours and who else’s?” Chandra asked.

“My father’s and Sachmei’s. We live here.”

“And where is here?”

“Adjo.”

“So I’ve been told. Is that a city?”

“It is our village.”

“What country is Adjo in exactly?” Chandra asked, praying it was someplace she had at least heard of.

“Country? I do not know what you mean, country.
”

“Country. You know, like the United States is a country, or the Bahamas, or Cuba, for example.” Chandra sat a little straighter. “I’m not in Cuba am I?”
Shit, that was
all
she needed.

Panya shook her head. “No. You are in Aredyrah.”

Chandra again leapt from the bed, oblivious to the leeches on her leg and the stabbing pain in her ribs. “Who put you up to this?” she demanded.

Panya’s lower lip quivered.

Orryn rushed forward. “What have you done to the Imela?” he shouted at Panya. “Get yourself away now!”

Panya burst into tears, but Chandra pulled the child into her arms, her temper switching from the child who had just verified that she was certifiably insane, to the blond-haired monster now storming in their direction. “Stay back!” Chandra ordered, thrusting a hand toward Orryn. “She only told me what
you
should have told me!”

Orryn halted, alarm building on his face.

“That’s right,” Chandra said. “She told me where I really am—in Aredyrah.” Chandra felt her throat tighten. Had she actually just said the word? Aredyrah didn’t exist, just as Atlantis didn’t exist, and Middle-earth and Narnia didn’t exist, and yet, here she was, believing that maybe, just maybe, they did.

Orryn glared at Panya. “Children should speak only when spoken to,” he said through his teeth.

“She told me because I asked her,” Chandra said.

Tygg strode into the den. “What crisis now?” he asked casually, but his eyes were sweeping the scene with obvious concern.

Orryn reeled to face him. “This fool child did not keep her mouth shut is what crisis!”

Panya ran toward Tygg. He lifted her into his arms, where she buried her face in his neck. “Panya is no fool,” he said firmly. “She is my daughter.”

“Hmmph! As I said,” Orryn retorted.

Tygg turned to Sachmei. “Take her,” he said, handing the child to her. “Or’n and I need to have a conversation.” Then to Chandra, “Lie back down. All your questions will be answered.”

Stubbornly, Chandra remained standing, but as Tygg’s calming gaze melted into hers, she could not help but sink back onto the blankets.

Tygg turned and grabbed Orryn by the arm. He shoved him toward the bedroom. “What do you think you are doing?” he hissed once inside. “You threaten my child, upset Sachmei and the Imela. What can be gained Or’n?”

Orryn turned away. “I—I don’t know! I reacted without thinking.” He raked his fingers through his hair, then began to pace the floor. “I’m losing control, Tygg. I don’t know what to do!”

“Then sit. Calm yourself,” Tygg ordered. “You stalk the room like a cat.”

“I can’t sit!” Orryn growled over his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing them up and down. He turned suddenly toward Tygg, then spun and paced in the other direction. “By the Maker, Tygg—I cannot stop moving! My skin crawls as if I’ve been tied to a bed of ants. What’s wrong with me?”

“You are withdrawing from lavation,” Tygg said. “Your senses will be wild for a time.”

Orryn wheeled toward him. “How long, Tygg? I don’t know if I can bear it.”

“Not long, and you will bear it.”

“I swear I may leap from your cliff wall if this doesn’t abate soon.” Orryn laughed nervously. “At least that would be quick.”

It was then that Tygg realized how rarely Orryn laughed. It sounded strange, unnatural. He placed a hand on Orryn’s arm, but Orryn jerked away.

Tygg sighed. “Sit. I will get you more medicine.” He turned toward the exit.

“No!” Orryn insisted. “Sachmei’s poison makes me sleep, and I cannot afford to sleep. The Imela is in my charge. I cannot watch her while I lay buried beneath the covers.”

“Well, you could if you wished it,” Tygg said, trying to lighten the mood. “It might calm your nerves, lying with her I mean.”

Orryn scowled. “I’m already losing my sanity,” he snarled. “I’ve no intention of losing my soul along with it.”

“How long has anyone gone without lavation?” Tygg asked with concern.

“And survived it you mean?”

Tygg was taken aback. “Survived it? You mean you could die for lack of it?”

“If the Sovereign Lady orders it,” Orryn replied. “It is her decision.”

“Explain.”

“If a Pedant travels too far into the realm of emotions, he will not likely return fully whole, even if lavation is performed. She must then search his soul to see if it’s salvageable. If it’s not—”

Tygg stepped toward him. “Why did you not tell me?”

“Why do you care?” Orryn shot back.

“Do you honestly believe I wish you dead?”

“It would mean one less Syddian, would it not?”

You will never trust me, will you? Very well. If I must prove myself.” Tygg grabbed up Orryn’s boots and thrust them into his hands. “Put them on. We are leaving.”

“Why? Where are we going?” Orryn asked.

“To Syddia, to settle this once and for all.”

Orryn’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“For the sake of peace, and the Imela’s safety, I will accompany you there.”

“Have you lost your good sense? You know the risks.”

“Did you not come to Adjo knowing there would be risks as well?”

Orryn could not argue the fact, yet he could not help but wonder why he had agreed to come. When they’d arrived here the night before, fear had threatened to override what little sense he had left. The trail leading to the fortress of Adjo had been dark and winding, but it wasn’t what lurked in the forest that had him worried. It was what lurked beyond the torchlights that snaked upward toward the cliff and the adobe fortress huddled beneath the massive stone overhang. He’d heard tales of the tribe that lived there, of their cruelty and warlike nature. But when a host of painted warriors suddenly appeared on the path before them, he knew the tales had failed to fully depict their barbarism.

The warriors had all been dressed in tawny leathers, their hair spiked in a similar fashion as Tygg’s. But while Tygg’s face was generally friendly, those of the men who had stared at him through the darkness were not. Their hatred for Orryn had been palpable, the murderous gleam in their eyes undeniable. Had Tygg not been there to argue with them in a language Orryn did not understand, he felt sure his head would no longer be attached to his shoulders.

“I have admittedly found the glowers of your warriors worrisome,” Orryn said, “but at least they have not yet tortured me. As for Syddia, I can offer no assurances.”

“Regardless, I go with you. But first I must get you to the springs.”

“The springs? Whatever for?”

“We have a many-days journey ahead of us. It will hasten the healing of the girl’s leg and—”

“But it’s out of our way!”

“Are you satisfied with nothing? It may alleviate some of your sufferings as well. We do not wish the Sovereign to find you lacking, do we?”

Orryn looked at him, at first surprised, then wary. “Perhaps I have underestimated you, Tygg,” he said.

“Perhaps you have.”

They did not leave right away, but instead waited until predawn when only the earliest of risers were stirring, and the fortress of Adjo was still a shadowy shape in the thick gray mists of morning. As they passed through the city, Chandra realized how truly massive it was. It was sheltered by a towering alcove of stone, its vast adobe structures filling every inch of it, from the dirt-packed floor to the high blackened ceiling. In the half light of the barely rising sun, all seemed peaceful and still. The morning air was crisp with the scent of pine needles and smoldering wood, and other than the occasional flicker of an awakening campfire, there was little movement to indicate any attention was being paid to the party of three now departing the city.

As they descended the cliff face, Chandra drew her cape more securely around her shoulders. The sun was just beginning to rise, but the air was still cold, a sensation she’d rarely experienced back home in Florida. Thankfully, Sachmei had loaned her some warm clothes for the journey: a pelted cape, loose-fitting leather pants, and a woven tunic tied at the waist by a colorful sash. She’d also offered her a pair of fur lined boots, but Chandra had declined them, choosing to wear her own boots instead.

Chandra squirmed in the saddle of Orryn’s horse, shifting her thoughts from the mysterious city that was disappearing at their backs, to her equally mysterious escorts. Orryn, she noticed, was a stiff silhouette, while Tygg was quite the opposite, poised like a warrior, his primal instincts seemingly on alert.

The forest around them was a foggy labyrinth, a web of dull light twisting its way through trees and vines and dark undergrowth.

“How can you see where you’re going?” Chandra asked.

“I use more than my eyes,” Tygg said. He flashed her a smile, and it was then that she realized how very catlike he was. It wasn’t his mane-like hair or the black drawn around his eyes and down the sides of his nose. It was the way his eyes gleamed, like those of a predator.

A grunt sounded behind them.

Chandra turned her attention to Orryn who was walking a few paces back. He had stumbled, not the first time, but as before had managed to avoid a fall.

“Do you need to rest already, Or’n?” Tygg asked with amusement.

“I don’t have the luxury,” Orryn grumbled as he regained his footing.

“Ride with Chandra—as I suggested from the beginning,” Tygg said, attempting to hand Orryn the reins.

“No,” Chandra said with more panic in her voice than she’d intended. “I mean, I’ll get down if he needs to ride.”

“As you wish.” Tygg stopped the horse and swept Chandra from its back, cradling her against his chest.

Chandra gasped. “No, I meant—”

“He knew full well what you meant,” Orryn snarled, marching toward the horse.

Tygg nodded toward the saddle. “Get yourself on, Or’n. We will make better time if you are not bumbling around.”

“I was not bumbling!”

“So you say,” Tygg said.

“I don’t take orders from you.”

Tygg lifted a brow. “So you do not wish to ride? Very well then, I will—with the Imela.” He grinned. “I think I would like having her in my lap.”

Orryn stammered a protest, but then he grabbed the reins and mounted the horse. He gave Tygg a murderous look, then turned his eyes ahead.

“Why are we traveling with only one horse?” Chandra asked Tygg. “Wouldn’t three have spared us all the drama?”

“My kind have little use for the beasts, though we once had them,” Tygg said. “We are more skilled on foot.”

A breeze whispered through the trees, sending a chill down Chandra’s spine.

Tygg shifted her weight, pulling her closer, and as he did, Chandra noticed how nice he smelled. He smelled like the earth, she thought, spicy and masculine and real, not like the boys at school who reeked of too little deodorant or too much aftershave.

“Are you cold?” Tygg asked. “You are shivering.”

“No,” she said. “I’m fine.”

Tygg chuckled. “Ah, you shiver for Tygg then.”

“You really are full of yourself, aren’t you,” Chandra said.

“Full of myself?”

“Full of your own ego. You’re not exactly God’s gift, you know.”

“I see,” he said, his voice growing serious. “Well, if it is not Tygg you shiver for, then you are cold.” He tilted his shoulder and swung his own cape around her. “Better?”

Yes.
“No. I mean . . . thank you.”

Tygg smiled. “My warmth is yours.”

“Enough,” Orryn growled. “Leave her be.”

Chandra peeked over Tygg’s shoulder at Orryn who was now riding behind them, his daggered stare aimed squarely at Tygg’s back. She studied his face, noting the hostility in his features but unable to ignore the masculine beauty of them. In the misty forest light, his golden hair seemed to float like an aura around his head. It made him look like an angel, she thought. She knew something of angels, mostly from reading fantasy novels, though movies and the occasional Bible reference also came into play. As she stared at Orryn her perception of him began to blur, and for a moment she wondered if he was even real. Perhaps he was only a figment of her imagination and she wasn’t here at all. Perhaps she was somewhere else, strapped to a hospital bed and pumped with narcotics.

“Put me down,” she said suddenly. She shoved against Tygg’s chest, wiggling to pry herself from his arms.