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Touch of Power

Page 31

   


It was difficult to sleep with guilt lodged under my heart. I tossed and turned until daybreak erased the black sky.
We traveled east for five days. I was right. Kerrick stopped at a cave system close to the town of Grzebien, and proclaimed it home.
“Isn’t this Pomyt Realm and occupied by Estrid?” Loren asked. He built a fire ring as Quain and Flea fetched rocks for him. Belen had been sent out to collect firewood.
“Yes.” Kerrick sorted through his pack.
“Then why—?”
“Estrid’s searching for us.”
Loren glanced up, but Kerrick didn’t offer to explain further.
“Logically, we should head west away from the people intent on harming us.” I tossed a few sprigs of parsley into the soup—my first attempt at cooking. “Which makes hiding in her occupied lands a strategic move. I’m guessing this area isn’t well-known to the locals or used. Right?” I aimed my question at Kerrick.
“Right,” he said.
“Still seems too risky to me,” Quain said.
“Consider it from Estrid’s point of view.” I tapped the spoon on the pot. “She believes we’re intent on reaching Ryne, and she has blocked the route. When we fail to arrive, she’ll think we’re either dead, captured by Tohon or holed up somewhere nearby so we could dash across the Nine Mountains at the first opportunity.”
“You don’t dash across those mountains,” Kerrick said.
“That’s beside the point.”
“And what is the point?” Flea asked.
“You tell me,” I said.
He chewed on his lower lip. “This is probably the last place she’d search for us?”
“That’s right.”
“I still think it’s dangerous,” Quain said.
“Dangerous would be getting too close to Tohon,” Kerrick said.
“Or trying to go around the mountains,” I said.
Kerrick shot me a surprised glance as if he hadn’t considered that idea before.
“No,” I said. “It would add months to the journey and the Ronel Sea is treacherous even in the summer. It would be suicide in the winter.”
When he kept his contemplative purse, I added, “And we’d have to cross Pomyt. It’s one thing to hide out just within the border, but to travel in the open…”
“Is asking for trouble.” Quain supplied.
“Who’s asking for trouble?” Belen asked. He entered the cave carrying a huge pile of firewood. Dumping it in a corner of the cavern, he collected a handful of thin branches.
“Guess,” Quain said. He smirked, pointing to me behind Belen’s back.
Belen bent over the fire ring, building a lattice of kindling around a few thicker branches. Without looking at Quain, Belen said, “I’d say you’re looking for trouble, Quain. Because that’s what you’ll get if you keep teasing Avry.”
Unaffected, Quain challenged. “From who? You or Kerrick?”
“From Avry.” Belen straightened. “She can hold her own, don’t you forget that.”
My turn to smirk. Quain opened his mouth to retort, but Kerrick silenced him with a single raised eyebrow.
Belen had the fire roaring in no time. The smoke vented through a natural chimney in the ceiling. I wondered how Kerrick had found all these caves. Water had eroded parts of the bedrock, forming them. I’d think sensing holes in the ground would be part of a rock magician’s skills and not a forest mage’s. However, I wasn’t an expert. I’d learned the eleven different types of magic—forest, earth, water, fire, air, life, rock, death, moon, sun and healing—but my education hadn’t gone beyond the basics.
I could ask Kerrick, but that question would have to wait until we were alone. Not likely now that we were “home.” Considering he hadn’t said more than a few words to me since that night we talked about Ryne, I doubt he’d talk to me.
“We’re getting low on supplies,” Kerrick said. “There’s a market in Grzebien, but a few of us would be too recognizable.”
“The monkeys can go,” Belen said.
“Except they made quite an impression on the town watch the last time we were here.”
The monkeys exchanged confused glances.
“Whiskey Wendi,” Kerrick said.
“Oh, yes,” Loren said. A slow smile spread on his lips. “That was Grzebien? Wow that was…a wild time.”
“That was also over a year ago before Estrid and when the Booze Baron ruled the town. Do you really think the people would remember us?” Quain asked.
“Whiskey Wendi,” Loren repeated, looking at Quain with a gleam in his eyes.
“Oh, yeah.” Quain grinned. “Yeah, they’d remember.”
“We have enough provisions for a week,” Kerrick said. “Then Flea can take her if…” He focused on me. “If she can learn how to move through the woods without sounding like a buck protecting its territory.”
“I think she sounds more like a brown bear defending her cubs,” Loren said.
“You guys are nuts,” Quain said. “She sounds exactly like a troop of watchmen after some poacher.”
With a wide grin, Flea joined in the teasing. “When I hear her, I’m always reminded of when we were chased through Horse Shoe Forest by that pack of wild dogs.”
Everyone turned to Belen. “I think she does pretty good considering she hasn’t had any training.”