Flauvic
I looked to the sky and thought that I could reach out and take the stars in my hand. In the darkness, the river became a swathe of silk, patterned with moonlight and shadow. Water rippled like the skin of some strange beast.
I shook my head, feeling the breeze against my face. So strange still to see light instead of sense it, walk on two legs, feel wind blow through hair instead of leaves. Not that there had been so much wind in Athanarel's throne room.
Four small punts were tied to the jetty where I stood. I should take one now, be far away from this forsaken river-town by dawn. The river would take me halfway to Sles Adran.
I leaned against a crumbling wooden post, watched the moon's reflection in the water. Ripples distorted it, until I could see in the water a laughing face, water twisting like tangled braids around it. I could still imagine her laughter. Not that I was thinking of it.
I pried a piece of wood from the post, tossed it into the water, which carried it quickly away. I looked to the sky, pretending that I was still enjoying the night.
It was growing cold. The sooner I got away from here, the better. I was sick to death of Remalna, of Merindar, of all its associations. Maybe I wouldn't go to Sles Adran. After all, it wasn't as if I had any real reason to. Except Fialma, but I could happily go without seeing her, dear sister though she was.
Then a scream tore the air, thin with distance. I spun around. A stone stair led down to the pier. At its top, shadows moved, split apart, and something tumbled down the steps.
I loosened my knife in its sheath, took a step forward, straining to see, as something—no someone, the figure was human—fell.
I watched tensely, struggled with myself for a moment, stepped forward to catch the girl.
Wide amber eyes blinked up at me, cloudy with the fall, and I thought I felt the remnants of a spell clinging to her, but if anything was there, the night wind blew it away. She drew a breath.
"Flauvic Merindar."
The words were no more than a whisper, but I stiffened as though she'd shouted. How could she know me? Her face showed nothing except surprise and shock, maybe from her fall, and as I tried to articulate a question, her eyes slipped shut, unconscious.
What now? I stood for a moment, faltering, then carried her to the boat, put her in it. I stood for a moment, looking down at her. She was very young, thirteen maybe, small and too thin. A tangled mass of hair the color of a new copper coin framed a cat-like face. I looked back, to the stair.
I couldn't leave her here, not without knowing how she'd recognized me when I'd never come to this place before, given no one here my name. I thought of the magic I'd felt, the distant cry.
I jumped into the boat and cast off. It was definitely time to be away from here. Answers could come later.