Chapter 5
Cane woke from a fitful sleep before the sun rose. Mirach’s words were very troubling, since he had no recollection of an epiphany. His mother had said that he must discover what he was meant to do, but she had never said when or how it was supposed to happen. He just wanted to go home, pilgrimage accomplished, and perhaps win Andromeda’s affection. He didn’t know if the latter was likely—or even possible—but his mother had also told him that he would never know something if he didn’t attempt it.
When he sat up, the nights of sleeping on hard ground was disagreeing with him.
“Agh,” he growled. The goat raised her head to look at him. Seeing nothing amiss, she went back to sleep. Pavo was still propped up against the tree, head back, mouth agape, and snoring quite loudly. The shoulder of his coat appeared to be soaked with drool.
Cane got up and gathered up his few belongings. Before disappearing into the shadows, Mirach had mentioned a wise man in the forests to the west of Kaitos. That seemed a good place to go for answers.
Leo was summoned at dawn by the elders. The men who had attacked Kaitos were headed north, so he was instructed to ride north as well and warn the nearest town, Caelum.
Before he left, he checked in on the newcomers. Pavo was staring off into space again, the goat grazing nearby. The Chosen boy was nowhere to be seen.
He swung onto his horse, Arkab, who was standing calmly with his kin. Of all the things they had lost, Kaitos still had some of the best horses on the continent.
With the flick of a wrist, he wrapped his riding cloth around his face. It had been such a long time…Caelum was sure to have changed somewhat.
I wonder if she’s still there…
He sighed, pushed the thought from his mind—for now—and nudged Arkab into a walk. To the east, the dunes went on for miles, like the curves of giant women. That way lie the enigmatic village of Spica, home to the pilgrims.
Further west, the equally mysterious woods were a primary source of the scarier bedtime stories. The elders discouraged such stories, because in a few cases it had just encouraged older children to go roaming the forest. Some never came back.
But he was heading north, where mountains loomed in the distance and the air was as sweet as nectar.
Cane had heard about forests before. He’d just never seen one. The trees were thick and healthy, the foliage a deep green that he didn’t know was possible. They grew close together, and the underbrush was thick.
He had to push away vines and saplings just to walk. It was a startling contrast to the desert, and the closed-in feeling began to bother him. Just as he was considering turning back, he came to an animal trail. The undergrowth was oddly tamed, dividing itself to create a path. He stepped onto it with a sigh of relief, brushing leaves and twigs from his clothes.
Just as he was about to continue on and see where the path led, there was a rustling from somewhere nearby. It sounded like something massive.
“Hello?” he called, trying to hide the shake in his voice.
The voice that answered him was impossibly deep; it sounded like soft thunder.
“I have lived here for many lifetimes. Watching. I have seen love, that which humbles and impassions man. I have seen peace, that which soothes man’s soul. I have seen war, that which turns man into a murderous beast. I have seen death, that which inevitably brings the strongest of men to their knees. So what makes you venture into my domain, little human?”
Leo arrived at Caelum that night. Arkab was breathing heavily, his mighty sides heaving and clouds of steam puffing from his nostrils.
The spring nights were cooler here in the north, and Leo glanced nervously at the gloss of sweat on the horse’s skin. He undid the fastenings of his cloak, shivering slightly, and began to dry him off. Arkab snorted in appreciation, tossing his head.
Throwing the now-damp cloak onto the horse’s back, Leo led him toward the town. They stopped by a water-trough, and Leo gave Arkab the signal to wait for his return. The horse, trained since infancy and from a long line of loyal stallions, would not move from this area until Leo came back.
He walked across the hesitant layer of grass that grew around and throughout the town. Passing between two houses, he spread his arms and ran his hands over their aged wooden sides. Every knot and whorl seemed familiar.
Then he saw a figure slip around the corner of one of the houses.
“Hello!” he called. The figure neither acknowledged him nor stopped. Growling in frustration, Leo began to follow. Twisting and turning to avoid the quaint homes and businesses, he hurried on. He was determined not to lose track of his quarry, since it seemed that no one else was out this time of night. As he rounded a corner of a house, there was a whooshing sound, and something collided with his face. Stars danced behind his eyes, springing up from his burning nose.
Blinking rapidly, he caught sight of his attacker.
Soleil stood there, clutching a heavy tome in both hands, poised to swing again. Her expression was somewhere between amusement and shock. “Leo?”
“That’s the second time you’ve broken my nose!” he growled, holding the object in question.
“What the hell are you doing here? And why were you following me?”
Blood trickled into his mouth when he opened it to reply. “I wasn’t following you, you madwoman. You just wouldn’t stop walking away when I called to you.”
“It’s nighttime. Of course I wasn’t going to stop for a large male shape that was shouting at me.”
He grunted in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose.
She sighed. “Alright, hold still.”
Her cool fingers touched his nose gently. He was reminded of the old days, before he left. He missed those days.
The fingers tightened suddenly and jerked to the left, straightening his nose with a crunch and another burst of pain.
“Thanks.” Definitely like the old days.
“It’s no problem. Come on, I’ll take you home and you can clean yourself up a bit.”
The house looked just as it always had. The door groaned as Soleil pushed it open, revealing a somewhat cluttered sitting room. It smelled of tobacco and flowers, and was lit by a beam of moonlight that flooded in through the window.
Soleil let Leo pass, then bent and propped the door open with a large rock. “It’s a nice enough night for it,” she said.
Leo needed no explanations. This habit was another thing that hadn’t changed—her parents did it, and she had picked up the practice. Then he noticed how empty the house seemed. How devoid of activity, whereas it had always been bustling before. It filled him with a deep feeling of dread.
“Where are your parents?”
Soleil turned, apparently noting the change in his tone. “They’re alright,” she answered softly. “Just out visiting some friends tonight.”
“Oh. Good.” He prodded at his nose, which was still bleeding, and now swollen. “What the hell did you hit me with, anyway?”
She smiled, handing him a rag to blot his nose. “Mother’s book of herbs. I was just fetching it back from one of the other healers when you showed up.”
“Ah…damned heavy, that book.”
“Yes it is.”
They stood there for a moment, unsure of what else to say. Finally, Soleil turned and went into the kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat, then you can tell me why you’ve finally returned after eight years.”
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