Chapter 18
Clambering onto the roof of the Suldanessellar palace, the ten-year-old boy got to his feet, swept his long, dark red hair out of his face, and began brushing dirt and dust from his bright-blue robes. He stopped upon realizing that he was not alone. A small figure was sitting on the edge a short distance away, her back to him and her legs hanging over the parapet.
He blinked, then walked over to her, stopping a few paces away. She appeared to be lost in her own thoughts, as she did not react to his approach. He tilted his head, noting her pointed ears, unkempt appearance and body odour, the latter two hinting strongly that she had not bathed for at least a few days.
"What's with your hair?"
She immediately spun around to face him and he frowned at the sight of her tear-stained face. The girl's expression swiftly changed from startled to open hostility.
"Is it brown or yellow, or mixed?" he said casually, rubbing his chin. "Never seen any other hair like it."
She stared at him incredulously for a brief moment before her eyes narrowed.
"Go away," she snarled through clenched teeth.
The boy frowned and placed his hands on his hips.
" This is my favourite spot. I'm not gonna give it up just because you're telling me to."
She glared at him for a long moment before slowly turning away. "Just leave me alone," she muttered bitterly.
"And let you have all the fun?"
She blinked in confusion several times before turning back to him, eyes afire and jaw clenched once more.
"You shouldn't jump."
She froze, staring up at him.
"Not with that in your stomach," he added, pointing at the unwrapped leaf upon which sat the remains of her meagre lunch of beans and paste. The girl looked at it and then back at him, hostility and anger now replaced by bewilderment.
"I've jumped off many times, and one time, I made the mistake of eating stuff like that before," said the boy. He shook his head at the unpleasant memory.
"Threw up in mid-air. Nearly messed up the Feather Fall spell. Here," He sat down next to her on the edge of the parapet, placing a brown-paper-wrapped package between them. "We'll share mine."
The girl stared at him, slowly lowered her gaze to the twin slices of roast mutton in the opened package, then back to his face. He blinked inquisitively before his eyes widened in apparent realization. "Oh, sorry, forgot to ask; you don't have a problem with eating meat, do you?"
She blinked at him, then very slowly moved her head from side to side. He exhaled loudly, his small chest rising and falling. "That's good. Here," he picked and held up one of the two slices of meat to her.
She hesitated, then slowly accepted the offering. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the girl keeping her head down while shooting occasional glances at him.
The boy produced a sealed tankard from his satchel, paused, then suddenly smacked his own forehead, startling her.
"Ah, buggeration. Don't have another one with me." He frowned at the tankard as though it had personally offended him, then grudgingly held it out to her. "Here, take it."
"Urm..."
"Just take it, go on."
The girl blinked twice before quietly accepting it with both hands.
Removing the lid, she took a hesitant sip of the brown liquid within and immediately fought an urge to gag at the bitter taste. Forcing herself to swallow, she blinked and went still as a warm, tingling and oddly pleasant sensation ran down her entire body. Before she knew it, she had downed half the contents.
"What is this?" she asked, keeping her eyes closed. The boy smirked.
"Dunno exactly, but I heard some'a the gents here call it 'cider'. You owe me one after we do this, by the way."
He looked away, finished his slice of mutton with two quick bites, then looked back to find her sitting very still and staring off into the void below them. He blinked at her expression for a moment before looking down at her half-finished meal resting forgotten on her lap.
"Hey, hurry up a bit. Lunch-time's almost up and I gotta be back soon."
She gave a start, nodded and finished her meal, though very slowly and in a way that almost belied reluctance.
"Right then," said the boy, standing to his feet. The girl hesitated once again before doing the same, looking down at the vast drop before them. "Who's casting, you or me?"
Her head snapped up to look at him, eyes widening in sudden panic. Seemingly not noticing her reaction, the boy rubbed his chin in thought, his gaze turning upward.
"Ah, I should do it. You took the drink anyway."
Casually kicking aside the remains of their shared meal, he stepped towards her, closing the small distance between them.
"Right, I've never done this with someone else before, so hold on tight, okay?"
The girl paused. Then, only semi-aware of what she was doing, she put her arms around his midriff.
"Hey, lower them a bit, I need some room to cast."
She obeyed quietly, her expression still confused, uncertain and more than a little bewildered.
"Right, then. Ready?"
Without waiting for an answer, he stepped off the parapet into empty space.
Her arms instinctively locked tight around his waist like a vice. The air seemed to howl in her ears as they plummeted at a sickeningly increasing speed.
With half of her face buried in the boy's chest, she opened her uncovered eye which then widened to the size of a dinner plate upon seeing that the ground was already coming into view.
"Cast it!" she tried to shout, but her voice was seemingly lost in the wind. She craned her head upwards, and terror filled her upon seeing his face. His eyes were closed and he was smiling, his expression serene and relaxed.
"Cast it!" she shouted again, with no response.
Pure, icy panic flooded her from the feet up. Straining her neck, she brought her mouth up to his ear.
"CAST THE DAMN SPELL!"
His eyes snapped open and he gave a start, then rapidly moved his hands while keeping his arms against her sides. She lowered her gaze to the rapidly-approaching ground and shut her eyes tight.
There was stillness and silence for a long moment. She then heard his voice.
"Hey...leggo. Can't breathe."
She opened her eyes, hardly daring to breathe, and saw that they were now standing on solid ground. She remained still for several seconds, then released her hold on him and roughly shoved him away.
"Are you crazy!? You almost killed us!" Her mouth opened to speak further, but she then brought a hand to it and stumbled off to the side.
He watched her vomit into the flower patch lining the palace wall. "Told you," he quipped, raising an admonishing finger. "Never eat that kinda food 'fore you jump."
She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and turned to face him with a ferocious glare.
"I hate you!"
She spun on her heel, got twenty paces away, then stopped and whirled around at the sound of footsteps to see him calmly following behind her.
"You still owe me a cider, remember?"
They both stood still for a long moment, staring (or in her case, glaring) at each other. Then, with a begrudging snort, the girl turned and resumed walking at a slower pace, allowing him to fall in step beside her.
"My name's Gorion, by the way. What's yours?"
"...Jaheira."
..
She stood with her back to him, arms folded across her chest and her gaze lowered to the floor.
The silence that had fallen in the room was so thick that Firebead's heartbeat sounded almost deafening to himself. He ceased his attempts to wriggle some feeling into his fingers, awaiting a response from his interrogator.
At last, she slowly lifted her head, staring intently at the window.
"Are you certain of this?"
Firebead released the breath he was involuntarily holding.
"I...well, not absolutely. But...yes. Very certain."
Ten seconds of taut, unmoving silence followed before she spoke again.
"Does he know?"
"That I know it, or-"
"Either."
"...no. No, I do not think so. And if I am wrong," he added quickly. "Then I have not caught any signs."
Jaheira paused, then very slowly nodded her head, turning to face him.
"Do you have any evidence to verify this?"
Firebead hesitated, looking up at her. "Jaheira, I know it seems-"
"Answer the question."
"...no. I don't have any evidence."
She nodded again, her head moving up and down by a few, barely perceptible inches. Her cyan eyes bored deep into his.
"Have you shared this with anyone else?"
"No, I have not," he answered, anger and frustration now clear in his voice. "I was under a geas, remember?"
Jaheira went still once more, meeting the old wizard's glare impassively.
A long moment went by before she slowly stepped forward, produced a small knife from her belt, and applied it to the rope binding him to the bedpost, carefully sawing it down without severing it. Then, putting the knife away, she leaned back to look down at him.
"You will be able to free yourself shortly," she said, her voice as stoic and quiet as her expression. "I will contact you soon."
She left without another word. Firebead stared at the doorway through which she had left for a long moment before closing his eyes and bowing his head.
..
Jaheira stopped when she had gotten a few blocks away from the house. Lowering her head almost to her chest, she reached out with one hand and placed it against a nearby wall for support. It was almost ten minutes before she was able to collect herself and resume her path back to the inn.
Lost in her own thoughts, she failed to notice Montaron shadowing her.
Using the knuckles of her right hand, Jaheira knocked very lightly on the door. It opened a few seconds later. For a brief moment, Khalid paused upon seeing her expression, but then silently stood aside to let her in. She stopped upon crossing the threshold.
There were five beds in the room; three on one side and two on the other. The latter two had been pushed together, as is the usual practice for the two half-elves.
Xzar was curled up one of the three remaining beds, his knees nearly reaching his chest. He was wearing a plain tunic in lieu of his robes, which now lay discarded on the floor along with the bed sheets and pillow. His pack was nowhere in sight.
Jaheira's eyes lingered on him for a moment before moving to one of the beds adjacent to his.
Dorean and Imoen were both in it, lying on their sides with the dwarf's back to his roommate. Imoen's arms were wrapped around him from behind, two different shades of brown hair intertwining with each other.
"She wanted to l-leave one f-for the halfling," Khalid whispered at Jaheira's side. He hesitated, then added, "Xzar wanted to take the f-floor."
Jaheira did not respond. After a moment, she slowly and silently moved to Dorean and Imoen's bed.
She stopped on Dorean's side, looking down at his face.
The dwarf's eyes were closed, and his left hand was tucked under his pillow. His beard fluttered slightly from his soft breathing.
His words at the Friendly Arm, spoken in only the previous night, sounded in her ears.
'Are you celebrating something?'
Jaheira blinked upon feeling Khalid's hand on her shoulder. Slowly, as though she herself had just been roused from sleep, she allowed him to steer her to their combined beds, where she found a wrapped package of food awaiting her.
"They b-bought it for you," Khalid explained, giving a small smile and holding it up to her.
Taking it in her hands and lifting the lid, Jaheira's eyes roam distractedly over the contents, then abruptly stop upon seeing a single slice of cooked mutton. After a moment, she silently sat down on the bed with her husband and quietly tucked into her meal.
On the other side of the room, Dorean slowly relaxed his grip on the knife hidden beneath his pillow, and Xzar carefully moved his hand away from the throwing dagger in the folds of his tunic.
Imoen slumbered peacefully, oblivious to the world outside of her dreams.