WARNING: FLUFF IS AHEAD! DON'T READ IF YOU'RE NOT IN THE MOOD FOR ROMANCE!!!
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Though my soul may set in darkness,
it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly
to be fearful of the night.
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Chapter 8: Explosions
The stars twinkled coldly against a curtain of black night. Briar stared blankly at the sky from Discipline's rooftop, his mind thousands of miles away from Discipline. He picked a scab on his left arm, unconscious that he was doing it, but aware of one thing. Downstairs was a suitcase, packed and ready to leave for Discipline the next day. After that, there would be no Discipline garden, there would be no Tris to get angered, there would be no Daja to laugh with, and there would be no Sandry to pull braids. There would be nothing familiar, nothing to cling too, and a future that was highly uncertain. And, although Briar was used to it, he didn't like it.
Sighing, Briar shook his head. He hated when he got like this. It was like some kind of infectious disease had crawled under his skin and was sucking the very sanity out of his brain.
A sudden pain brought him back to reality. Biting his lip, Briar looked down to see that his unconscious picking had made his scab come off. Blood started to erupt from the now exposed wound. "Dammit," he grumbled, gritting his teeth. Trying to stop the bleeding, Briar winced. Dirty fingers didn't feel very good against raw flesh.
"Ouch," Somebody spoke lightly beside him. Briar looked up sharply, his eyes suddenly glittering with alertness. Blinking his eyes, he saw Sandry stare down at him. Seeing her, his muscles relaxed, and he looked down at his bleeding wound before looking looking back at her. Seeing his stare up at her, Sandry smiled lightly. A breeze blew through the warm Emelan air, making her hair flutter in front of cool blue eyes. Her hands rested at her sides, staring at Briar's picked over scab. Briar found a smile playing on his lips, before he realized that he was doing it. Frowning, he quickly looked down at his scab and grunted.
He heard Sandry sigh before coming closer to him. Picking up the hem of her skirt, she sat down, her blue cotton nightdress resting at her knees. Wiggling her toes, she glanced over at Briar. She bit her lip before asking, "Are you okay?"
He felt her stare at him, her eyes boring into his skull. It was the strangest thing when she did that, stare at him. Briar didn't like it.
Plus, she was sitting awfully close.
Shifting uncomfortably under her gaze, Briar pursed his lips and shrugged. "It doesn't hurt, it's just gonna get infected now that I opened it up again."
"That's not what I was talking about."
He glanced up at her in surprise. Her eyes pierced into his, and her hair flowed delicately around her arms. Her hair had gotten quite long in the last few months.
Why hadn't he noticed it? Briar shook his head. Maybe because he wasn't supposed to.
Licking his lips, he blinked at Sandry. She smiled at him, her eyes slightly glazed over. "What do you mean?" He asked softly, still staring at her. A wind puffed throughout the air. It picked up her hair and placed it around her face.
Sighing, Sandry shook her head. She put her knees up to her chin before saying, "Never mind. I just thought you might be, well. . . upset." She glanced over at him, raising a questioning eyebrow.
Slightly taken aback, Briar reeled his head back. "What gives you that idea?" He asked, his voice slightly defensive. He didn't know how long Sandry had been outside, but it sounded like she had been out there long enough to see him spaced out.
Briar's suspicions were right. Smiling smugly, Sandry started to list, "Well, for one thing: You were staring off in the sky, and your eyebrows were all scrunched together like you were thinking about something. Second: You NEVER sigh. You just sighed."
Briar looked at her in horror before stuttering defensively, "I did not sigh!"
She smiled deviously at him before replying, "Oh, but you did, Briar Moss. Third: You always pick scabs when you're nervous, or tired, or angry, or upset, or. . ."
"Okay, I get the point!" Briar exclaimed, glaring at her. Leaning back on his elbows, he shook his head. "Just my dumb luck: A foster sister who knows everything about me."
Sandry laughed at him, her face beaming. "It's the price you have to pay to live with an extraordinary person such as myself," She remarked before smiling sarcastically at him, and laying a mock-sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
He just rolled his eyes. Sandry laughed at him some more.
When Sandry managed to control her laughter to manageable giggles, they both sat in comfortable silence. The blood had stopped flowing from his arm and now there was just a small wound of bright pink flesh. Frowning at it, Briar shook his head. It never failed. . . something got wounded the day before a big journey. He sighed before looking up at the sky. A slight breeze fluttered through the air, sending goose bumps up and down his arm. Or maybe the goose bumps weren't from the breeze. . . .
Briar ground his teeth before shaking his head. He wasn't going to think like that.
He heard her sigh, before he felt her lean against his back. "I'm so tired, Briar. I don't want to leave Discipline. I don't want to leave you . . . or Daja and Tris."
Something swam in his stomach, as if someone had just pushed him off Discipline's roof, but his stomach still resided here, next to Sandry. They simply sat there, leaning against each other for support. Briar knew he should chirp at joke, something to lighten the mood. To make this awful something in his stomach go away.
A voice screamed in Briar's head to do something. He felt a lump appear in his throat. Oh gods, he wasn't going to cry. . . was he? Briar shook his head, willing to clear in his head. He had come out here for fresh air. Why did it feel like he was suffocating?
He glanced down at Sandry. Her eyes were closed, but a bitter-sweet smile was plastered on her face. Her hair swirled around her face, and the moon shone off her face. Briar smiled goofily before making himself frown. This was stupid. He didn't need to stop. But, before he could look away, Sandry popped one eye open and glanced up at him.
She yawned sleepily, before blinking. Smiling up at him, Briar tried to keep a straight face. But he failed miserably. Terribly.
Then Sandry stirred. Reaching over, she put her finger on his wound. "Does it still hurt?" She asked, her voice soft and lulling. Her finger were cool and soft, unlike his rough and calloused ones. A soothing sensation went up his arm. Sandry looked back up at him, her eyes shy and innocent at the same time. The screaming persisted in Briar's head. He needed to stop this.
It needed to stop. But it didn't.
Feeling his heart beat heavy with adrenaline, Briar felt as Sandry reached up and, gingerly, touched his face. Pushing back some hair from his face, she let her finger glide down his jaw. She was as first looking him in the eye, but then she followed her hands, her mouth becoming relaxed. She brushed her hand along his cheek, and Briar sighed, feeling her soft skin glide across his weathered face. Closing his eyes, he felt as she etched her fingers along his face, along his chin, around the scar he had since his street days.
Something went numb in his mind. It was if the reasoning part of his brain had shut off. All he could concentrate on was the coolness of Sandry's touch, the smoothness of her nails, her gaze.
What was going on? Briar didn't answer, and further more, he didn't care.
It all felt so. . . complete? He didn't know. It was like he had been trying to peice together a huge puzzle, and the last few pieces just didn't seem to fit. But, if you turned them a different way, you suddenly saw where it was supposed to go, and how it fitted together. And you felt happy, and frustrated, and confused at the exact same time.
Suddenly, as if burned, Sandry pulled away. The sensation ended abruptly in Briar's mind. His eyes snapped open and stared down at Sandry. His mind went in full defense mood, blaring red sirens left and right. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Sandy simply stared at him in a mix of confusion and panic. Shaking her head, she back away from him.
"I. . . I. . . I" She stuttered, her eyes darting around frantically. Nothing came to Briar's mind either. In fact, his mouth felt like cotton. Getting up on her feet, she clumsily stumbled over her nightdress. Looking down at Briar, her eyes swimming with tears, she shook her head. "I don't know what I can tell you Briar," she closed her eyes, sucked in some air, before whispering, as if she didn't want him to hear her, "Not here, not now: wait for me, Briar." With that, she turned around and started to retreat inside Discipline.
It would have worked, except Briar was too quick for her. Jumping up from his sitting position, he managed to grab her arm. Sandry spun around, looked at him with teary eyes, her hair plastered to her face. Grabbing her other wrist, he looked down at her, eyes squinted. "What's that supposed to mean, Sandry?" He asked, his voice deep.
It was now that Sandry was supposed to struggle from his grasp, run away, and lock herself in her room until Briar left the next day. But this time, as she looked at him, the tears gone from her eyes, and her face became stern and stiff. Lips pursed, she said, "Briar Moss, it's time to get up."
Briar reeled back and squinted at Sandry. "What?"
"Briar Moss, it's time to get up." This time her voice wasn't her own, it sounded like a different person had invaded her body.
Something suddenly pierced through the dark of night, and Briar immediately knew what was happening. He was about to awake to a new morning, in a bed in Madab, with Evvy's annoying face in his, persisting that he remove himself from his warm bed.
Blinking in a haze, Briar barely opened his eyes. Groaning, he felt a presence near his bed. He grabbed an extra pillow that laid beside him before turning over and chucking it at Evvy, hoping that she would leave him alone. Instead, when he turned over to the other side of his bed, he saw a tall, stiff young woman standing on the side of his bed. As she saw the pillow come near her head, she moved her upper body to the side, barely avoiding a collision. Coming back up, she stared coldly at Briar.
Blinking sleepily, Briar stared up at the person beside his bedside. Dark, unblinking eyes met his stare, along with a wave of white hair.
Dasnie.
Clearing her throat, she walked to the edge of his bed and picked up one of his large chests. Dasnie looked over it at him, before stating calmly, "You will have to hurry, Briar Moss," she tossed her hair around her shoulder, "your companions are waiting outside for you." With that, she started to exit the room, his large chest of clothes wedged between her shoulder and her head.
Open mouthed, Briar watched her start to leave his room. Suddenly, reality hit him and he managed to mumble, "Wai. . . Wait!" Dasnie turned around and blinked at him unemotionally. He tore the covers from his bed and stood up, before tripping on his shoes that he had discarded sloppily the other night. Cursing, Briar managed to regain his balance before stammering a multitude of questions, "Where's Evvy? Why are you taking my luggage? Do you know how early it is? And what am I supposed to wear now that you're taking away my clothes?" Panting, Briar glanced up at Dasnie, who was staring back at him, lips pursed.
She sighed and licked her lips. "Evvy is with Empress Sandrilene, Daja Kisubo, Trisana Chandler. She said that I should wake you for fear that her life might be in danger. She said that you would try to knock her head off. I must tell you though, that a pillow will not take someone's head off." Briar reeled back in shock, half expecting it was some kind of twisted joke. Dasnie's face registered no joking attitude; she was serious and had taken Evvy serious also. "I'm taking your luggage to the carriage outside which will take you to the ferry to Sarai Island. Yes, I know how early it is. It is approximately half an hour till sunrise. And your clothes that you will want to wear to meet the queen are in your armoire. You will be surprised how much the climate changes." Rising an eyebrow, she then continued, "Is that quite all, Briar Moss?"
Briar swallowed, trying to let all her answers sink in. Running a hand through his tangled hair, he stared around his room. Hanging in a large chest beside his bed, was a thin, white cotton shirt along with a pair of light green britches. Two boots of thin leather were laying underneath the clothes. They looked like awfully thin clothes for the chilly Madabian air.
"Is there something else that you require?" Dasnie asked, her voice stiff and sharp.
"Um, no. . ." Briar said, before waving his hand at her as if to shoo her out the room. He heard her exit, before he turned to the clothes. Picking up the shirt, he squinted at the cloth. Tiny, almost invisible, threads of fabric were woven throughout the shirt. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Briar checked the pair of britches. There was magic woven into them too. He stepped back and examined the clothes. Maybe he shouldn't wear them. However, he threw caution to the wind and took off his nightshirt and put on the other shirt. Quickly slipping into the pants and boots, Briar felt something shiver throughout his body. Suddenly the clothes became instantly warmer, as if adjusting to the temperature in the room. He raised an appraising eyebrow. It looked like Sandry had been doing more with her life than Briar had already assumed.
He glanced at the mirror that was next to the armoire. Frowning at his disheveled appearance, Briar tucked his shirt into his britches before running a hand through his hair. It didn't help much. Sighing, Briar looked around his room, which was now tinted with the very beginning of a dawning sunlight. Evvy's bed was empty, and it wasn't made.
Pursing his lips together, Briar shook his head. Not waking him up because she feared for her life. Ridiculous. . . where did she get such ideas?
Sighing, he walked to the door, glanced around his surroundings before heading outside to everyone else.
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The first person that Briar saw when he reached outside the Quetat Veyla was Duke Eraged. In fact, he nearly plowed into the tall man, as he tried to tuck the back of his shirt into his britches.
Reeling back from the collision, Briar quickly apologized before knowing it was, "Oh, sorry. . . didn't see you there."
Immediately the Duke laughed at him, and Briar glanced up at the man, not believing his own dumb luck. Duke Eraged smiled smoothly at him and, to Briar's utmost disgust, his ugly bird was perched on his shoulder. It cawed angrily at him before it craned it's neck at a ninety degree angle, staring at Briar through slanted yellow eyes.
The group was behind the Duke, all looking at him with amusement. Tris had her thick red hair down, but it flowed down past her shoulders, while she glanced at him over her wire-wimmed glasses. Daja looked at him also, a smug smile on her face. Both of them seemed to enjoy Briar's horror at the bird. Both also wore dresses, which looked strangely foreign on Daja. They seemed undaunted by it, most likely because of Briar's misery.
He had such great friends.
Coming around the large carriage was Sandry, who had her hair in a tight array of braids. She had a dress on also, but it was much grander than Tris or Daja's. It hinted royalty in every stitch of it, in every fold of the fabric. Seeing him, she smiled slightly, and the sadness had returned to her eyes. Briar was about to frown at this, but somebody spoke up.
"So, I see my Pahan decided to wake up after all." It was Evvy. Turning his head slowly, Briar faced her. Her arms were folded stiffly across her chest and her eyes glittered with impatience. And she had a dress on. Seeing this, Briar raised an eyebrow at her. In return, Evvy raised her eyebrow also, before stating coldly, "You do realize that you're. . ."
"You're a bit late, Mr. Moss. . ." the Duke said, his voice heavy in accent. ". . . But that was expected of you." Briar was going to ask him what that meant, but was interrupted by something extremely unexpected. Something rippled throughout the air, like a silent explosion. It felt like the air was knocked right out of his lungs, and Briar doubled over, gasping for air. Darkness ebbed on the sides of his vision while a wave of exhaustion flowed through his veins. He heard Tris groan from the back of the group before Daja yelped in unexpected pain. Sandry screamed before something like bones popping sounded. Evvy gasped before she went eerily quiet.
The "eruption" only lasted for a few mere seconds, but it was enough. When it was over, Briar gulped large breaths of air, and his vision, although a bit wavy, returned to normal. Pulling himself off his feet, he looked around the grounds. Tris was grabbing her head, her eyebrows stitched together in pain and Daja was in a sweat, her face painted red from heat and fatigue. Daja looked sharply at Briar, both of their eyes echoing confusion. Then, something snapped in their brains at the same time.
"Sandry!" They exclaimed simultaneously before running around the carriage to where Sandry was. She laid on the ground, curled up in a tiny ball, her chin on her knees.
Falling to their knees, Briar and Daja stooped down towards Sandry. Her eyes were clamped shut and she was moaning, her hands grasped tightly around her stomach, knuckles white with trepidation. Although it was apparent that she wasn't unconscious, it wasn't quite clear that she was conscious either. It was as if she was in a place in-between those two areas of consciousness. But, one thing that was for sure was that she was in a great deal of pain. Her eyebrow twitched strangely before she moaned.
Still clutching her head, Tris tapped Briar on the shoulder. He turned around sharply, facing her squinted eyes and pained face. "You all right, Tris?" Briar asked hurriedly, hoping that Tris wasn't about to fall down into a hurting mass like Sandry.
"Don't worry 'bout me," Tris said through gritted teeth, her eyes glittering in agony. She quickly held out a small sack to Briar, before moaning, "Here, take these. . ." Briar held out his hand before Tris sloppily slapped it into his hand.
Looking at the sack and then at Tris, Briar raised his eyebrows. "Er, thanks. . ." he paused, blinking in confusion, ". . . what's it supposed to do?"
Something twitched painfully in Tris' forehead before she said, "It's smelling salts. Should wake her up in a jiff." She then sat down on the ground, breathing heavily and painfully.
Briar was torn in whether to tend to Tris or Sandry, but finally decided that Tris would probably try to hurt him, even in her disposition, if he tried to help her. So, turning back to Sandry, who was still curled up in misery, he opened the sack clumsily before sniffing the contents inside. Immediately, his eyes watered.
"Good gods," he mumbled before glancing up at Daja, his eyes swimming. She raised her eyebrows at him before turning Sandry over, so that she was on her back. Giving one last glance up at sack, he shoved it under Sandry's nose.
Her eyes immediately snapped open in what looked like utter surprise. Coughing like she just came out of water, Sandry immediately sat up. Grouping her stomach, she moaned before coughing again. Briar put a hand behind her back to steady her, but she immediately jumped at his touch, her eyes flapping open at him, wide in horror.
Seeing it only to be Briar, Sandry relaxed considerably. She was still breathing hard, Daja and Briar simply stared at her with open mouths, unaware of what to say. She didn't seem to be any more pain, except it seemed like she had just run a long race. Briar was about to ask Sandry a question, but he was interrupted by a weak voice behind his back.
"Pahan Briar. . . what's going on? What just happen?"
Briar recognized Evvy's voice and turned around. She was standing directly behind him, her knees almost on his back. Her arms were crossed around her chest and her dress was dirty. It looked like she had fallen to the ground from utter shock. But what struck Briar the most was the tears that poured down her face. It poured from her black eyes steadily, falling down her ghostly pale cheeks. He was suddenly torn on wrapping a comforting arm around Evvy's shoulder or tending to Sandry.
He never got the chance however, for Sandry suddenly spoke. "Did I just doze off?" Briar heard her asked, voice hinged with confusion. When he quickly turned to look at Sandry, her eyebrows were knitted together and her eyes were scanning the area. Her mouth was hanging in slight disbelief before she shook her head. "I cannot believe I just fell asleep. Of all the ridiculous things to do. . . MY GODS!" Pushing herself off the ground, Briar watched dumbstruck as she stumbled to her feet and started to stream off a couple of uncharacteristic curses at herself. Some of which were in languages he had never heard of. Briar smiled crookedly at her, despite the situation.
Daja exchanged a look with Briar, who's eyebrows were raised in shock, before getting up and putting a hand on Sandry's arm. "Sandry. . . you didn't doze off."
Sandry suddenly stopped. Blinking at Daja, she cocked her head suspiciously. "I didn't? Because, I was just dreaming. . ."
"Dreaming?!" Snorted Tris. "Lucky you! Try at splitting headache! Like somebody shot lightening right through my entire skull." Taking her turn to stand up, Tris look around the group with a pained expression on her face and gleaming in her eyes.
"Intense heat," Daja mumbled quietly, while Briar said, much louder than Daja, "Took my damn breath away!"
A sob echoed behind Briar, making him nearly jump around. Evvy was standing behind him, and Pasco had walked up to her and placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. Her chest racked in silent cries before she stuttered, her breath scarce, "The ro. . . rocks. They were so sad! Gods, so sad!" She sniffled and Pasco squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before adding shyly, "Bones in my feet have never cracked that way 'fore."
Briar was about to shoot Pasco a keep-your-hands-off-her look, but was interrupted by Sandry. "So. . . what did just happen?" Briar looked up at her, gazing at her confused stance. She was looking behind him, before shooting him a concerned glance, and then looking up again.
Craning his head around, Briar saw Duke Erraged, Jadof, and Dasnie standing silently behind them. The Duke's usual smug smile had disappeared, and now was replaced by a worried frown. Jadof was looking at them in alarm, his eyes roaming over all of them, before glancing at his father. Dasnie looked about as emotionless as ever to the common onlooker, but Briar could distinctively see surprise.
Jadof gulped. "Dasnie, is it. . .?"
"No." She interrupted solidly, her voice strangely firm.
"But, could it be, ya know, The. . ."
"No. It is not, Jadof." She threw a look at him. Jadof glanced down at her, his eyes alive with apprehension.
Briar immediately exchanged glances with Sandry, whose eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. Biting her lip, she finally spoke. "What are you talking about, Jadof?"
Jadof looked down at Dasnie, each of them holding each others gaze. Some kind of silent argument was held between the two, before he shook his head sorrowfully. "Nothing, Empress Sandrilene. . ."
"It's just Sandry. Call me Sandry, please."
"Sandry. . ." Jadof corrected, saying the words laboriously.
"There is nothing to worry about," Dasnie added smoothly, her voice even and almost reassuring.
Everyone in the circle exchanged fearful glances. Daja had taken out a cloth and dotted her forehead, taking away the excess sweat. Tris had seemed to recover from her headache, but was squinting at Dasnie suspiciously, unconvinced of her declaration. A broken sob sounded from Evvy, making Briar jump and look at Sandry. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, her eyes distant. She was absently rubbing her stomach, unaware that it looked strange with, what looked like, a completely normal, flat stomach.
Briar heard Dasnie gulp before saying, "We must be off now. I'm afraid that we are behind in our journey and must get to Sarai Island if we are to make it in time for the fetaq." She immediately walked towards the large wagon of goods that they were to take down to ferry.
Fetaq. A Madabian word. Briar squinted in frustration, trying to remember what it meant. Something about food and celebration. Food sounded good. Briar suddenly realized how hungry he was when his stomach rolled. He hadn't really touched much of the supper last night, he was too busy sulking. They hadn't been served any breakfast either.
"Um, Dasnie?" Briar asked, before Dasnie turned around and raised an eyebrow. "When are we gonna eat? I mean, ya know, breakfast?. . . Your Highness, ma'am." He managed the last bit in hastily, remembering the young woman's status.
She blinked at him and then shook her head, "You will want to be on an empty stomach for the fetaq." She offered him a hand into the wagon, while Daja and Tris were already inside it. He looked at her hand before accepting it gingerly.
"So, there's food involved?" Briar inquired, trying to sound innocent. Silently, he was praying that the fetaq wasn't some kind of rabid smell that made you puke, so that you definitely didn't want anything in your stomach.
Suddenly she heard someone laugh behind him. Turning around sharply, he glared at whoever was behind him. To his surprise, it was Sandry. She glanced up at him with glittering eyes and a slight smile, a far cry from her usual melancholy mood. Suddenly, all the sudden anger left Briar like someone had punched him in the stomach. He smiled back at her, not realizing why he was, but quite aware that his grin was goofy.
Sandry stepped into the wagon without any trouble, and then glanced up at him. "You need to brush up on your Madabian, plant boy. A fetaq without food, for sure, " she remarked playfully, giving him a sly grin. Briar was about to offer a retort to this, but she quickly interrupted, "Hold on there, your collar's all crooked." Standing on her tiptoes, she briskly took hold of Briar's shirt collar and readjusted them so that it was straight and neat. Then, brushing off small particles that Briar was sure Sandry could only see, she smiled up at him.
And, to Briar's annoyance, he grinned back at her. Enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically.
He needed to get a grip. It was just Sandry for gods' sake.
A voice suddenly sounded outside, before the floor beneath them jolted foreword. Everyone, including Evvy and Pasco had entered the wagon. Apparently they were taking off.
Briar sat himself down, before looking at all the faces in the dimly light wagon. All their faces were sunken and suspicious. Even Sandry, who seemed more perky today, seemed a bit cautious and sad at the same time. Whatever had happened back at the Quetat Veyla was bothering all of them, despite the feeble rejections that it had been anything of importance. It all seemed all too suspicious to not be something-- anything. Madab was starting to become more peculiar by the minute. The terrible headaches, the intense heat, the sadness, the dreams, the pain, the draining. Rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, Briar tried to place it all together. Nothing came to his brain however. He would try to put it together with that others later.
Evvy sat next to him, tear stains still apparent on her cheek. They had driven for a few minutes before she mumbled, quietly, "I've got a very, very bad feeling about this."
Briar's rolling stomach growled in agreement.
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When they driven for what felt like forever, the wagon came to an abrupt stop. Briar was jolted forward, his brain suddenly snapping into reality. Blinking sleepily, he glanced around the wagon. Tris was still rubbing her pained head, Daja was writing in something, Evvy was talking quietly to Pasco, and Sandry was fast asleep. Her head had somehow rolled onto his shoulder, and she was breathing steadily.
Smiling down at her, Briar poked a finger in her rib. "Hey, rise and shine, Your Highness. Your faithful stead has brought you to the land of milk and honey!" He watched as her eyes fluttered open, stared blankly ahead, before glancing up at him.
"Are we there yet?" She asked groggily, before sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
Suddenly the curtain of the wagon flew open and Dasnie was in front of it, her body dark in contrast with the bright sunlight outside. Briar became aware that the temperature was getting much warmer as they got further north. Squinting out past Dasnie, Briar could see a wide range of vegetation, from lush grass, to a thick oak tree.
"We have arrived to the ferry boat that will take us to Sarai Island," She quickly started to tie the folds of the curtain back, her face an emotionless palate. "I'm afraid we must hurry or we will not arrive in time for the meeting with the Queen."
"Your mother," Tris added quickly, glaring at her. Her eyes were squinted painfully behind her glasses, obviously not happy with the sudden increase of sunlight.
Dasnie glanced up at Tris, her eyes registering somewhat of a shock, before shaking her head. "Yes, my. . . mother, Her Royal Highness."
Obviously this wasn't the point Tris was trying to make, because she threw her hands up before snorting. Pushing past Daja, she quickly exited the wagon, mumbling, "The quicker we get this whole situation, I'm heading on the quickest boat outta this place."
Briar chuckled at her, before shaking his head in silent agreement. Madab was a strange place. Right now, his heart yearned to be out of the stupid journey, to be back at Discipline, warm in his bed. Even Rosethorn screaming at him to pull weeds seemed preferable to Madab.
As soon as leaving the wagon, Briar immediately noticed how pleasantly warm it was outside. The sun peeked out from a large cloud, and a slight breeze blew throughout the area. To his right, there was a large mountain, rising in a steep cliff so that the rocks were visible. Trees grew in front of the mountain, until the vegetation slowly waned away upon the rocky cliff.
Hearing water lap serenely off to his side, Briar turned around, only to reel back from slight shock. A vast body of water lay in front of him, that disappeared off into the horizon, till he could see no longer.
"The Western Deep," he heard Sandry breathe next to him. Looking down at her, Sandry was taking in the scene with a look of astonishment, her mouth slightly agape. Her eyes were wide, looking more alive, but still somehow sad.
Opening his mouth, Briar was going to comment on her expression, but was interrupted by Dasnie. "There is much more of the Western Deep to look at, but for now, we must set off towards Sarai Island."
Looking around, Briar scanned the vast expanse of water. Everywhere he looked, there was simply more and more water. No ship. No ferry boat. Not even a piece of driftwood. "Um," Briar frowned in confusion, "that's all fine and dandy, but how are we supposed to get there?"
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth, that Dasnie lifted a whistle to her mouth and blew. It produced a rather shrill sound, making both Briar and Evvy cover their ears. Then, like out of nowhere, a large ship appeared in the bay, with a full deck of men, busy on deck. Blinking, Briar slowly uncovered his ears and stared in disbelief at the sight in front of him.
"Holy Harrier the Clawed. . ." came a voice behind Briar. He also heard someone gurgle their throat in agreement. Pasco and Evvy.
Briar couldn't find any words better for the situation. Never, in his entire life, had he seen something appear just out of thin air. Literally out of thin air. There was no fog to hide the ship, it just simply appeared. Blinking, Briar stammered, "Uh, wha. . . How in the world?" He looked around at the Daja, and Tris, but all they had for an explanation was a simple disbelieving shake of the head.
Dasnie was now occupied with shouting out Madabian orders at the men on deck. But, after a few seconds, she turned to Briar and said formally, "It is what we call in Madab a 'Fartet Neque'." She stared at him blankly, as if something would have clicked in his brain.
Shaking his head in mock recognition, Briar drawled sarcastically, "Right, a Fartet Neque. How could I be so stupid?"
"I have no idea, Mr. Moss," Dasnie bit in, obviously not picking up the sarcasm in his voice. She quickly turned on her heel, shouted some orders at the ship before turning back to Briar, not letting him get in a decent word. "Now, if you will excuse me. We should be ready to set sail in a matter of minutes." Then, spinning towards the men, she started to bark orders once again.
Briar stared blankly at her for a few seconds before hearing someone chuckle beneath him. Staring down, he saw Sandry's face lit up in a small grin, and she was giggling to herself. Nearly forcing himself not to smile, Briar chewed the inside of his cheek. "What's so funny now?"
Glancing up at him, Sandry shook her head. "How long did you study your Madabian?" She asked, her voice obviously trying to sound innocent. But it failed. Miserably.
He crossed his arms across his chest. "Long enough."
"Oh really? Then you would know that Fartet Neque means
'Disappearing Nymph' in Madabian?" She blinked at him, and for a
second Briar saw a slight glint of teasing residing there. "And that
the sound of the whistle makes it appear, because of the magic intricately
carved into the wood responds to the sound. The Madabians are famous
for their woodwork. But I'm sure you studied all this before we came.
Right?"
Clearing his throat, Briar shrugged, trying to put on a convincing
face. "Of course. . . I was just being a little flirtatious with
good ol' Dasnie here."
"Right!" Sandry exclaimed before she burst out into laughter. "I can just see it now. . . 'The Mysterious Madabian Princess and the Once Street Kid, Together at Last!'" With that, she gave him a light punch in the arm before making her way to the shoreline, where a small boat waited to take them to the larger ship. Tris and Daja were already in it, waiting for them.
Briar watched her leave, contemplating her last words. He watched while she made her way in the boat, her elegant dress trailing behind her. How much would that dress cost? More money that Briar had had in his entire life. Sighing, Briar shook his head. She was right, it would never work. Not like he liked Dasnie anyway. Sure, she wasn't bad looking, but there wasn't anything there.
But was it about Dasnie?
Shaking his head ferociously, he headed towards the small boat, nearly stomping his way there. Jadof was already seated on one side of it, with the other men and sailors. He smiled up at Briar when he boarded the ship, and Briar tried to do his best in giving a light grin. It probably looked more like he was grimacing.
Evvy and Pasco were the next one's in the boat, Pasco giving Evvy his hand. She took it gingerly, ignoring Briar's glare. Once seated in the boat, Briar made it his duty to watch Pasco's hands the entire ride up to the ship. Sandry nudged him in the side, and when Briar looked up, she shook her head towards Evvy and Pasco. Briar just frowned deeper before continuing his glare.
While they were almost to the ship, Briar took a few seconds to tear his eyes away from them. When he did so, he caught a brief glimpse of what looked like something carved out of the stony cliff. He blinked in confusion, thinking something was wrong with his eyes. It looked something like a prison. Briar could have sworn that he had seen windows carved out of the stone and metal bars in-between the windows. Also, he thought he had seen men, clinging to the bars, looking down at him enviously.
Rubbing his eyes, Briar squinted. "Wha. . . What was that?" He pointed to the rocky cliff.
Jadof, who was busy talking to Dasnie, looked up at Briar and then towards the cliff. Instantly, he frowned. Shaking his head, he spoke slowly, "Do you remember the men who attacked you earlier on in the forest?"
"No, must have slipped my mind. . .enlighten us," Tris interjected, her face in a solemn frown, pushing as much sarcasm in her voice as possible.
Dasnie looked at Tris in confusion, opened her mouth to explain, but Jadof interrupted her, "They came from that place there. We call in a 'Gernova Ta Freylo.' Meaning. . ."
"A Capture of Innocent Men," Sandry finished, her voice quiet. She stared silently into her lap, her eyebrows furrowed. Looking up at Jadof, she blinked at him. "I thought those were outlawed in the Treatise of Elisad."
Jadof suddenly laughed, sounding bitter and almost malicious. "Oh, it was. It was, Your Highness. . ."
"Sandry. It's just Sandry, please."
"It was, Sandry. You see, if the Royals needed to send away someone because they knew too much, they can always accuse them of something trivial. Tax Fraud, Illegal Plowing, whatever they wished. As long as it sent them away. And as long as it looks legal." Jadof shook his head, letting his white-blond hair fall in front of his dark eyes.
Briar looked from Sandry, who was staring intently at Jadof, to Dasnie, who was looking about as stoic as ever. The only emotion that was somewhat evident on her face was a gleam in her eye. Cocking his head in confusion, Briar asked, quite abruptly, "What the hell are you talking about?" He felt Evvy glare at him, but he ignored her.
Jadof and Dasnie didn't speak. They simply exchanged anxious glances, before shaking their heads and becoming completely silent. Briar glanced down at Sandry, who was looking somewhat livid. As if feeling his stare, she looked up, before speaking. "A Gernova Ta Freylo is a prison that innocent men are put in because they pose a threat to the royalty. They know something -anything. Perhaps they know the king has a mistress. Something to create a royal scandal. Long ago, they used to send them to these prisons. Keep them away from the ears of the people. The prison are hidden by magic, except by a single angle. Right now, it looks a stone wall, but from one angle, you can see the prison." She shook her head, before pursing her lips in fury.
"They are harmless men," Jadof added, equally as maddened as Sandry. He didn't seem to like the prison either. "My father seemed to think it a good idea to send them after you. If you won the battle, you were the company who we were expecting. If you weren't. . . they would have killed you." He shook his head again. "They were offered their freedom in exchange, but I doubt my father gave it to them." He glanced at them, his soft eyes becoming dark and sharp. He them turned around, glancing blankly behind.
It took a few seconds for the information to settle into Briar's head. When it did, a wave of fury shook his body. Grinding his teeth, he clenched his hands in a tight fist. "You're keeping innocent men in there?!" He looked at Jadof and Dasnie, but only Dasnie returned his stare, calm and measured. "That's just goddamn wrong. . . and believe me, I'm not big on morals."
"It certainly is wrong, Briar," Sandry added, her voice even toned, but underlined with anger. "It's just another fine example why monarchy doesn't work." With that, she huffed stormily before growing quiet, her face flushed.
Dasnie simply stared at the both of them. Shaking her head, she said quietly, as if no one could hear her, "I will never understand these people." With that, she quickly tied the little boat to the larger ship.
A ladder was thrown down to them to climb aboard. Tris and Daja went first, followed by Evvy and Pasco. Sandry, arms still crossed, went last, still looking as enraged as before. Taking one last look at the cliff, Briar shook his head before climbing up behind her.
If he didn't have a bad feeling about Madab before, he did now.
________________________________________________
This is late. Very late. What can I say? Well, I can say two words: Writer's Block. Yes, the dreaded curse. Plus, FF.net wasn't working for nearly a thousand weeks, so it gave me a flimsy excuse to not write. But, now the chapter is finished. And it's long. 13 pages I think, or according to my computer it is. So, muah.
Also, I will be leaving for Soccer Camp tomorrow at 5 a.m.
I will be gone for a week. After that, I'm off to the beach.
After, that, SCHOOL! AHHH! Has this summer gone by so quickly?
Where did it go? So, don't kill me if the next chapter doesn't appear
for awhile. I am continuely working on this, even if it doesn't seem
like it. Sometimes, I can just sit down and only write two paragraphs.
Sometimes, a few pages. It all depends. So, don't hate me?
PWEASE? Oh, and review if you please. It would be most appreciated.
Thanks everyone!