Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3) Page 18

  The scar she had grown accustomed to seeing was gone. She reached up and touched the skin again. Smooth and fine. She was beautiful once more. Unmarred. No, more than that . . .

  She leaned toward the glass, her breath fogging the surface. There. The tiny wrinkles that had started to form along her eyes were gone too. Had the healing brought youth as well? That would explain why Valin and Malchus still looked so young.

  But at what price? She closed her eyes. The heady warmth came back, but only a shadow of it. Not as powerful as the actual sensation. The real thing . . . her lips parted and a sigh came out. It was like nothing she had experienced before. To feel it again . . .

  No! Her eyes flew open and she saw her reflection.

  With a scream she hit the mirror with the side of her fist. The mirror cracked. She hit it again and again, shards of glass cutting into her hand. The mirror shattered, falling from its frame and scattering across the floor into a thousand shiny pieces.

  Rowen slid to the floor, gasping and sobbing. “Oh Word, help me! I don’t want to become that! I don’t want to be like them!”

  But a small part of her relished the fiery feeling. And the power! All during her time with Drake she had felt powerless, abiding in the belief that the Word would save her. And all that time she could have saved herself. One touch of her hand and Drake would have been writhing on the ground, begging her to stop—

  “Word, no!” She covered her face with her hands. “No! That is not who I am. I will not be like Valin or Malchus. I will do what is right. I will use my power for good, not evil.”

  But a shard of darkness now hungered inside of her.

  Chapter

  21

  Caleb stood in front of his horse. Everything was packed, secured to the horses, and ready to go. Nierne waited behind him. She would get on her horse the moment they left, and not a second before. He could not understand her fear of horses. He found their strength and dignity appealing.

  Lore was already in his saddle, his face set toward the west. In front of him, Balthazar’s people were tearing down tents and stowing away their belongings. They would be moving east, opposite their direction, toward the next watering hole.

  There had been nothing to fear. Even if Balthazar knew about the bounty on his head, he had never said anything, or done anything. Caleb let out a small sigh of relief.

  Balthazar approached him.

  Caleb held out his hand and Balthazar clapped him on the arm.

  “It was good to see you, Caleb.” His voice rumbled. “I’m sorry you’re not traveling the same direction we are.”

  “I am sorry too.” And he meant it. “But I need to visit Thyra first and help my companions.”

  Balthazar nodded. “I understand. I hope you find what you are looking for there.” His gaze moved past Caleb. “Perhaps the young scribe will help you.”

  Caleb frowned. Did Balthazar mean something more? “I assume she will, being privy to the Monastery library.”

  Balthazar just smiled. “Once you are done with your travels and have found the information you seek, you are welcome back at our fires. You will always have a home here, with us. Just like your mother did.”

  Balthazar’s words struck a chord inside him. A home. He had a home with these people, should he ever want it someday. “Thank you, Balthazar. I will remember that.” He patted the pack that hung from his shoulder. “And thank you for the supplies. Hopefully these should see us through the rest of the Great Desert.”

  “They should, so long as you don’t run into any trouble. And stay on the path I marked for you. There are some small watering holes along the way. It is the path my people take.”

  “I will.”

  Balthazar clapped his arms again. “Farewell, Caleb, son of Selene. May your Word smile on your journey.”

  “And may He smile on yours as well, my friend.”

  The men parted. Caleb turned and placed his foot in the stirrup. With a strong shove, he mounted and settled down into the saddle. Nierne gave a little sigh and mounted up as well. She was getting better at handling her horse. Perhaps by the end of their journey, she would actually like horses.

  Caleb lifted his hand in farewell. Balthazar did likewise. Then he pulled on the reins of his mare and started westward, toward the setting sun.

  Caleb rode in silence beside Nierne. The stars came out, one by one, with a moon rising just above the horizon.

  “What do you think we will find in Kerre?” Her voice echoed across the empty desert.

  He paused. He hadn’t thought a lot about that. Well, not exactly. He had thought about Kerre, and what they would find. But not having been to that country before, or witnessed what Nierne had, he didn’t have much to base his thoughts upon. “I don’t know. If these Shadonae act like other human despotisms I have known, then you might find your city empty or gone. What purpose would there be keeping humans alive? Other than to consume them. And how many would they need?”

  “It’s just like how I see it in my dream.”

  Caleb shifted in his saddle and looked over at Nierne. “You mean your nightmares?” She hadn’t spoken much about them since that first night at the ruins outside Azar.

  Nierne hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve been having this dream, where I’m in Thyra. The city is empty, except for . . .”

  “Except for what?”

  She shivered and drew her cloak closer. “The shadows.” Her voice lowered. “I’m at the Monastery, trying to get in. And . . . this shadow comes. It draws closer. I can’t get into the Monastery. It is almost upon me. Then . . . I wake up.”

  Caleb placed the reins in his left hand and looked at his right. There was a faint glow around the mark on his hand. “You know I wouldn’t let them touch you. I would never let them come near you.”

  “But you might not be there.” She didn’t look at him. Instead, she faced forward, the pale moonlight spread across her face. “You have no reason to go to Thyra. You’re just going to find out information.”

  He frowned. “Yes, that is true. But perhaps I am going for more. Maybe the Word has more planned for me.”

  There was silence. “You would stay? And help us?”

  “Did you really believe I would go, and then leave?”

  Nierne shrugged, her gaze still forward. “I don’t know. A month ago, I would have said yes. But now . . .”

  “And where would I go back to? Azar? Somewhere else in Temanin?” Caleb sighed. “I am not welcome anywhere.” Saying that out loud cemented his reality. He had nothing left. Except for Balthazar’s offer.

  “I know. I don’t know if you would be welcome in Thyra, either. My people do not think highly of Temanins. And I suspect your mark and power would frighten them more. Men with supernatural power already conquered us. Another man with similar power, well, you can understand.”

  Caleb nodded, but it made his middle tighten. He had never really thought about how other people would react to his Eldaran blood.

  “But I’m not afraid of you.”

  He jerked his head up.

  Nierne looked at him and smiled.

  A twisting wistfulness filled his belly. He wanted to see that smile on her face again. More so, he wanted to be the cause of that smile. The words that came next were foreign, and tasted odd in his mouth, but he needed to say them anyway. “Thank you.”

  Her smile changed into a humorous, puzzled look. “What for?”

  “For not being afraid of me. I used to want people to be afraid of me. Fear was power. But that kind of power is lonely.” That was more than he’d meant to say. Caleb shifted in his saddle. He never bared his innermost thoughts and wasn’t sure why he was doing it now.

  Her smile returned. “Well, I know you better now than most people. You aren’t the same man you once were. You are still strong, still powerful. But your heart has chang
ed, for the better.”

  Word, he hoped so. Although he still heard the call of darkness beckoning him, sometimes daily, even hourly. Would he always be fighting it? Did Nierne fight that inner darkness too? And Lore?

  They rode along in silence, Caleb turning over her words inside his mind. You aren’t the same man you once were.

  Three days passed, full of sand and heat and sun. They stopped by the first watering hole Balthazar had marked on Caleb’s map, refilled, and continued west.

  Caleb wiped his face. Even he was now growing tired of the Great Desert, and he had lived in this arid country most of his life. Lore reminded him of a fish out of water: his skin burnt and peeling, his lips cracked. Avonains never fared well in the desert. Nierne looked a little bit better, but she seemed weary of the heat and sun as well.

  The horses plodded along, the dullness as dense as the heat. Caleb rode with his eyes half shut. They would reach the next watering hole by tonight. Good thing, too, since their waterskins were almost empty.

  Lore rode up beside Caleb.

  “Yes?” He didn’t bother to open his eyes.

  Lore pointed toward the north. “That doesn’t look good.”

  Caleb sat up and looked north. Billowing sand clouds filled the horizon, reaching almost to the sky itself. The clouds rolled over each other, tumbling faster and faster as the sandstorm raced across the desert. Lightning flickered in and out of the tempest.

  The dullness vanished. Caleb swore. “Of all the nine shades . . .”

  Nierne stopped beside him and sucked in her breath. “What is that?”

  Caleb looked around, barely hearing her question. A rock, a boulder, they needed something to protect themselves and the horses. Word, please let there be something. By now the roar of the storm echoed across the sand, a churning mass of sand and wind.

  Nierne touched his arm. “Caleb?”

  He held up a hand, silencing her. There, just off to his left, a small cleft. And they just might have enough time to reach it.

  “This way. Follow me.” Caleb spurred his horse toward the outcropping of rocks. The roar grew louder. Sweat broke out all over his body. He had been in sandstorms before, but never one this big. Then again, he had never traveled this deep into the Great Desert.

  Once he reached the rocks, he jumped off his horse and clawed at his pack. His fingers slipped as he tried to unlatch it. He swore again. “Get your blankets and cloaks out,” he shouted to Lore and Nierne. The latch unbuckled. Finally. He pulled everything out.

  “Lore, help me get the horses down. Nierne, put your cloak on and keep all the waterskins and food with you. Get as close to the rocks as you can.”

  He tugged at his mare’s bridle. “Down, girl. There is nothing to be afraid of.” She looked at him and slowly knelt down. “That’s it. Good girl.” He patted her on the neck and threw the blanket over her, covering her up to her ears. Lore already had his mount down and covered in the same way. Both men moved toward Nierne’s horse. Already the sand was kicking up into the air and the roar was almost deafening.

  Caleb ignored the sand and focused on what still needed to be done. Horses were secure, now to make sure they were ready. He turned toward Nierne and squatted down. “Everyone, put on your headscarves. These rocks should give us some protection, but just in case . . .” He pulled out his scarf and began to wrap it around his head. Lore did the same. Nierne fumbled with her own. Caleb tucked the corner in up by his ear, then scooted over to assist her.

  “What’s happening?” she said as he wrapped the cloth around her head.

  “Sandstorm.” The words came out muffled through the cloth.

  She glanced up. The sky had grown dark now and sand flew across the top of the rocks. “Will we be all right?”

  Caleb tucked the end of her scarf behind her ear. He wouldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know.” He looked around. “And I don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

  The three huddled together with their backs against the rocks. The overhang provided some protection, but sand still found its way into their cove. The horses’ heads were lowered and their faces were pressed up to their knees. Within minutes, the sky was almost as dark as night.

  A hand touched his knee, and made its way up until it found his arm. Nierne’s hand. She held onto his sleeve with an iron grip. Lore moved until their knees barely brushed. Caleb heard the horses move, but could no longer see them.

  Everything was pitch black. Sand bit at his exposed face and hands. The winds roared and in the distance thunder rumbled.

  “How long will the storm last?” Lore yelled over the wind.

  Caleb turned toward Lore, but couldn’t see the man’s face. He couldn’t see anything. “Might be a couple hours,” he yelled back.

  Lore didn’t answer him. Caleb settled back against the rock. “Rest if you can. Until the storm blows over.”

  Nierne shifted on his other side. Neither of them said a word. Caleb crossed his arms and closed his eyes. His vision didn’t change. Didn’t matter. He would use this time to catch up on some rest.

  •••

  Red light filtered through Caleb’s eyelids. His body gradually surfaced from sleep. One more breath. He opened his eyes. Bright sunlight replaced the red vision. He blinked again and squinted until he adjusted to the light.

  Well, at least the storm had passed. Sand covered everything now. His mare lifted her head and shook the sand off. He hadn’t even realized she was there. Her entire back was buried in sand. The two other humps were the other horses.

  Caleb tried to stand and found his right side pinned down. He glanced over. Nierne lay curled up beside him, her head buried between the folds of his cloak. All he could see were her lips and lower jaw, and a mess of red curls. A small snore escaped her lips.

  That same, twisting feeling came back. It wasn’t the passionate fire he had known with Ailis or any other woman, although a hint of it was there. It was . . . different. Warm, like wine.

  A curl moved and he brushed it aside. She didn’t wake.

  What would it be like to wake up next to Nierne? To see her like this, in a bed draped in silk, concealed by hanging gauze. Then his thoughts jumped to what the night before would have held. The warmth turned to a slow burn.

  Lore rustled on his left. Caleb blinked, and the thought from heartbeats ago vanished, leaving behind a smoldering fire inside his chest. Just as well. He didn’t need to dwell on those thoughts. One woman, one life. Not easy, though, when a desirable woman was sleeping next to him.

  He brushed the sand off of his legs. The movement woke Nierne.

  She lifted her head from his shoulder, still sleepy and now disoriented. Her gaze found Caleb. She frowned, as if she didn’t recognize him.

  Only inches separated their faces. “Good morning,” he said quietly.

  Her eyes went wide. Nierne sat up and scooted back. A red tinge spread across her cheeks. “Did I fall asleep on you?”

  Caleb nodded. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

  “I’m sorry! I had no idea. I didn’t mean to . . .” She brushed her curls back away from her face.

  His grin faded and a hunger stirred inside him.

  Nierne stared at him and paused. Thoughts flit across her face, her features changing from embarrassed to something less defining. “I take it you slept well.”

  Caleb frowned. Wait. Was she teasing him? The grin came back. “Very.” He shouldn’t push it, but he was going to anyway. “I could get used to that.”

  Her whole face lit up like a torch.

  He should apologize, assuage her sensibilities. That’s what a gentleman would do. Instead, he just grinned at her. He liked leaving her speechless.

  Nearby, Lore chuckled.

  “I . . . well . . . I should . . .” Nierne’s fingers pulled and twisted the cloak in her
hand so hard he thought she would tear the garment. “I should pack. Yes, pack.” She looked away, still twisting the cloak in her hand.

  She hadn’t yelled at him, or given him the cold shoulder. True, he had unnerved her, but she hadn’t backed away from his playful advance.

  The warm feeling returned.

  Caleb tore through his bag again, then through his cloak and scarf. Where were they? Where were his compass and map? Sands!

  Lore looked up. His hand was in his own pack, where he had been placing his blanket. “What’s wrong?”

  Caleb wanted to swear long and hard, but instead he took a deep breath. “My map. It’s gone. And so is my compass.”

  “Your map? You mean the one Balthazar gave you?”

  Nierne glanced over.

  “Yes. I can’t find it.” He turned his pack over and dumped everything out on the sand: his blanket, two waterskins, dates and dried meat wrapped up in strips of linen, and a cloth bag filled with grain.

  Lore started rummaging through his own bag. Caleb opened up the sack of grain and combed through it, even though he knew it couldn’t possibly be in there. He had a feeling he knew where the map and compass were, and if he was right, there was no way they would ever find them.

  A couple more minutes went by as the three of them checked through everything. Caleb stood and threw his pack as far as he could. It sailed through the air about twenty feet and landed in the sand with a soft thud. “They’re gone.”

  Nierne shook her head. “You don’t know tha—”

  “Yes. I do. I had them out when the sandstorm came. I put them in the outer pocket of my pack, but I was in a hurry and didn’t secure the flap.” Caleb clenched his hands. How could he have been so foolish? “They fell out, and now they are buried.”

  “You’re sure?” Lore said.