Midnight Quest (6 page)

“So, you fared alright, I see.” The tone was amused, but Sarvell clearly felt pleased to see him.

“Oh, I had a fine time,” Rialt assured him with a suspiciously evil chuckle. “Watching them hop and scurry about most of the night was a sight. I have no had such fun in years. You two look fit as well. How was the climb down?”

“Long. Arduous. If the gods have any pity, we’ll never be put into such a situation again.”

“Perhaps an offering to Corbeird is in order,” Jewel suggested. “To avoid further misfortunes.”

“Eh, it be no a bad thought,” Rialt agreed. Leather creaked as he dismounted, and the heavy way he landed on the ground suggested that he was more fatigued than he let on.

“Come have breakfast,” Sarvell invited.

~*~*~*~

The small size of the fire was a necessity to avoid drawing attention to themselves, but it also produced very little heat. Rialt watched as the little priestess drew closer, nearly putting her hands into the flames, little shivers dancing along her skin. The wind had a nip to it, true, but it was no unseasonably cold. Apparently she was used to being coddled indoors. Unlike him.

Sarvell caught one of her hands and pushed a hot cup of tea into it, which she accepted with a thankful nod and smile. He watched her with open concern, but Rialt did no think it was because of the slight chill. He probably thought the same thing Rialt did—that it was nearly impossible to be on the run with someone blind.

“Priestess,” Sarvell asked in a low, gentle tone, “can you tell me why you were locked in the dungeon?”

She lowered the cup after talking a healthy swallow, head turned slightly in his direction. “Elahandra did not tell you?”

“She told us very little,” Sarvell admitted with a dry smile that she could not see. “In fact, the only thing she told me was that you were in trouble, where to find you, and that Rialt would be joining me.”

“Ah.” She lowered her cup even further, hands clenching around it. “Several of the ministers came to me and tried to persuade me to alter the barrier to exclude the Ramath Clan. I don’t know why—I naively thought that if I ignored politics, it would ignore me in turn—but I gathered that the Ramath Clan leaders had refused to do something. They wanted me to open the barrier, exposing them to the Daath, to force them to change their minds.”

Sarvell shot Rialt a look that he barely noticed. This was no the first time that such a threat had been leveled against his clan because of some high-handed minister’s own agenda. The surprise was no in the threat, but that she had stood against it. This small, nearly defenseless girl had withstood captivity and death threats rather than leave his clan vulnerable to attack. She had no flinched from protecting people that she had never met, which meant she likely never would.

She could no see him. She had no idea that she spoke in front of one of the Ramath Clansmen that she had helped to protect. No one here knew that he had nearly told a goddess off rather than come to her rescue. Still, even then, the hot flush of shame heated his face.

He stood from his crouch, moving closer to the fire, swinging off the heavy cloak he wore as he did so. Gently, he placed it around her shoulders, gathering the front to close in around her. She initially startled at the first touch of the cloth against her skin, but when she realized what it was, she reached up to catch his hand, holding him there.

“Won’t you be cold?” she asked in concern.

“I be used to cold much harsher than this,” he assured her. “My coat be enough in this weather.” This time, he sat down next to her. He took in a deep breath to steady his nerves before trying to speak again. “Priestess, I be Ramathan.”

Her mouth dropped open a little. “Oh! Do you know, then, what Corgen wanted?”

“No,” he answered, fervently wishing that he did. “Himself did no say anything about this to us.”

“Himself?” she repeated in confusion.

Rialt paused a moment, struggling to form an explanation for something that every Ramathan child by the age of three understood. “Our Ahbiren—you would say clan leader—be like a father to all of us. We do no call him by title, just refer to him.”

“Ah, I see.” She raised the cup to her lips, taking another healthy swallow. “I…I have a request for both of you.”

Whatever this girl wanted, Rialt would gladly give it to her. “Ask, Priestess.”

“First, call me by my name?” she requested with a hopeful smile.

“We will, Jewel, if you so wish,” Sarvell responded. He’d been very quiet during this exchange, studying the two of them intently, and he was obviously relieved at Rialt’s evident change of attitude.

“Good. But I want to…um…see you.” She wriggled her hand a little in partial explanation.

Rialt blinked at her in confusion, not quite sure he understood what she asked, when Sarvell lit up with understanding. “Of course, Jewel,” he assured her, shifting about so that he sat on his knees directly in front of her. “Go right ahead.”

“Thank you,” she responded with a puff of relief. “I’ve been so curious, but for most people, it’s very uncomfortable when I do this.” She set the cup carefully beside her, then reached out with both hands until they grazed Sarvell’s chest. Rialt watched silently as she slid her hands across, up and down, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“You’re very muscular,” she commented, mouth quirked up slightly. “But your shirt and coat are made from very fine material. You’re not a guardsman, are you?”

Sarvell’s eyes twinkled in amusement by this observation and question. “No, I’m the third son of a merchant family. My head is better with fighting and logistics than numbers, so they put me in charge of the caravan guards.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Pleased by his answer, she let her hands drift down to his, where she carefully felt along his wrist and fingers. “You are a very neat, meticulous man.”

Rialt blinked again. It was obvious for him to see this, but how in the four winds could she tell?

“Your nails are perfectly trimmed, and your hands have thick calluses, but aren’t rough,” she explained as if she could see their bemusement. “Very few men are as careful with their appearance as you are.” Her hands went back up, this time examining his face with light fingertips. “Hmm,” her mouth curled up in a wider smile, “you’re handsome.”

“
Now
you’re pulling my leg,” Sarvell drawled.

“I’m blind, not oblivious,” she retorted on a laugh. “Your features are very symmetrical, and you have those high cheekbones women love. You’re younger than I thought, too. Twenty-five?”

Sarvell raised both eyebrows at her in surprise. “Twenty-eight, actually.”

 She withdrew her hands and sat back again. “I bet that you’re used to charming people into doing what you want.”

“On occasion,” Sarvell admitted, openly amused by her frankness.

She nodded knowingly.

Rialt did no know if he would be as blasé about this as Sarvell seemed to be, but it was clear that she now felt very comfortable with the other man because he had let her closer. Rialt wanted her to be just as at ease with him. No, more than that, she would need to be in order for him to protect her. So without making her ask, he reached out and gently caught her hand, pulling her slowly around until she faced him.

She gave him a thankful nod, hands reaching out until she found his chest. She did the same, slow examination that she had done with Sarvell. Her brows slowly climbed as she went over his chest, shoulders, and upper arms. “Goodness, but you are heavily muscled! What sort of weapon do you use?”

“Battle axe.”

She nodded, unsurprised by the answer. When she reached his hands, she slowly felt along his fingers. Rialt felt a little embarrassed by this tactile scrutiny. “I be no as pretty as our friend,” he said as a sort of objection.

“You work a great deal with your hands,” she answered, pausing long enough to give him an encouraging squeeze to his palms. “I’d say you were the kind of man that prefers to simply dive in and get the job done.”

“Eh. Well…eh.”

With a soft chuckle, she lifted her hands to his face. “My, that’s a thick beard!”

“Beards are good in the winter. Keeps half of your face from freezing.”

“It’s neatly trimmed,” she approved. Her fingertips were soft and gentle along his skin, carefully tracing every dip and angle. Rialt felt somehow self-conscious by the way that Sarvell watched them, and kept his eyes on her in an attempt to ignore the double scrutiny. “Ah, you have those high cheekbones, too. It looks like I have two handsome men keeping me company.”

Rialt rolled his eyes at this. He had never been called handsome.
Brutish
, now, that was a different matter.

“Hmmm. You’re the same age as Sarvell?”

“Twenty-five,” he corrected. “Near enough.”

“Is the long hair typical of your countrymen?” she asked, hand stroking the short ponytail hanging from the nape of his neck.

“Well, it be no uncommon. The hair keeps the back of our neck warmer, too.”

“Ah.” She sat back, regaining her seat and picking her cup back up with unerring accuracy. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Not at all,” Sarvell assured her.

Rialt, relieved, went back to business. “Now, afore we move, I say we plan a bit ahead.”

“That’s a fine idea,” Jewel agreed readily. “I think we should go to Ramath first.”

“Ramath?” Rialt sputtered, completely taken by surprise.

“First?” Sarvell questioned in bewilderment.

She stilled at their reactions. “Did Elahandra not tell you
that
either? The four crystals in each clan are not in the proper place.”

“Lass, they have no been for nigh on two centuries,” Rialt pointed out in exasperation.

“Which is a problem,” she informed him, mouth tightening in an unhappy line. “Rialt, I don’t think you understand. Each crystal was put into the position it was so that it could easily connect with the other crystals. This was done on purpose. All five crystals have to be linked to each other in order to be charged. When those crystals were moved, not only was the burden of the barrier put onto just one crystal, but the means of re-powering it was taken away.”

Rialt’s blood started to run cold as her words penetrated. “Then, your crystal?”

“It cannot sustain the barrier much longer.” Her white, unseeing eyes turned to the direction of the crystal with pinpoint precision. “Perhaps a year, but no more. Elahandra told me before you came for me that as soon as I was free, my first and most urgent task is to find and replace the other crystals.”

Sarvell looked as if someone had just driven an anvil into his temples. “Find four giant crystals that no one has seen in two hundred years while dodging patrols searching for us…”

Rialt felt the same headache coming on. “By the wee lass, that be quite a task that we have been handed.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she assured them quickly. “I can sense all of the crystals, once I’m close enough and the closer I am, the clearer it is.”

“Eh, that be something,” Rialt admitted with a heavy sigh.

“Still leaves us with all of those patrols to dodge,” Sarvell pointed out.

“Come on, man, where be your sense of adventure?” Rialt chided with mock exuberance. “If there be no danger, it would no be half the fun.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jewel cheered, face lighting up with a smile.

Sarvell looked between both of them, expression growing resigned. “I’m not sure which one of you is crazier. Alright, so we’re crystal hunting. Why Ramath first?”

“It’s closest,” she explained readily, ignoring the comment on her questionable sanity. “I’m also worried about Ramath’s borders. I’d rather have their crystal in place first, that way when I do have the last crystal up in Jordia, I can charge it right then.”

It would also save them time, Rialt reflected, as Jordia was on the opposite side of Ramath and it would take almost a month to travel from one to the other. “I be for it. But we can no just scurry about the countryside until we stumble over it. Ramath be a big place.”

“We won’t need to,” Jewel assured him. “Actually, I need to go to the largest Order Temple in Ramath in order to look at their records. They should have a location written down. If nothing else, it will say which city the crystal was last in. I can’t imagine that the crystal was moved very far from there, considering how massive they are.”

“A good point,” Sarvell acknowledged. “Rialt, where is the Order Temple in Ramath?”

“Wingate.”

“The very northern edge of Ramath?” Sarvell asked in a defeated groan. He clearly knew where the city was and didn’t need the confirmation.

“I’ll also need to go to Juven’s Temple,” Jewel added tentatively. “Because I’m working in another god’s territory, I have to at least warn her of what I’m doing and ask formal permission.”

“Shards, lass, but be this the time for formalities?” Rialt objected. “We do that, and every Thornock lackey will notice us!”

“Rialt,” Sarvell said with a sort of weary patience, “we’re going to be moving around crystals as tall as a two story building. You really think we can sneak in and out without someone noticing us?”

Rialt opened his mouth to protest, thought about it, and subsided with a long sigh. “Point.”

“No one in the temples would report us,” Jewel declared firmly. Then her forehead crinkled up in an uncertain frown. “Or at least, I don’t think they will. Each priestess operating a temple is from her own country, after all. Thornock’s political reach is extensive, but surely not
that
extensive.”

“They will no need a plant inside,” Rialt disagreed. “Just a man watching the doors. You stand out like a sore thumb, lass.”

Sarvell nodded in agreement, although the wheels were clearly turning as he thought the matter through. “Disguises likely won’t help much, but we’ll try our best.”

“All we can do,” Jewel agreed, rubbing at her temples as if trying to stave off a headache. “So, Juven’s temple in…what’s the nearest city?”

“Denzbane,” Rialt answered immediately. “My home town.”

“Then let’s stop there first, so that I can report to Juven what I’m doing, and then go to Wingate,” Jewel proprosed.