“Welcome to Nehandun,” Kalan calls as he steps off the gangplank. Crimson follows, and I’m last, stepping from the narrow wooden bridge into the small port we’ve docked in.
A few other boats are anchored, with people loading and unloading supplies.
As my feet hit solid ground, the hum of magic thickens in my blood. It’s, frustratingly, just as Kalan said—different.
Over the sea was the worst, but it didn’t stop Kalan from harassing me to practice my power, time and time again, proclaiming that I had no other choice. There was no escaping, trapped on a ship for three days, so I listened to him. He reminded me—often—that my gift was a poor shadow of what it should be, given who my mother is. I didn’t rise to explore that comment. I’d have time for that later. It did serve as added motivation, though.
Crimson offered to help me. It was strange, actively trying to infiltrate her mind, and having that oily feeling cling to me every time, like I was stepping over a barrier that I shouldn’t cross.
But the practice helped. Magic felt trapped, as if buried at the bottom of the sea, but working it, willing it, meant that I quickly got stronger. Crimson used her training to try to keep me out, blocking her mind and shielding, but to really test myself, I’d need someone stronger and more used to mind tricks than a Warrior trainee.
Kalan didn’t offer himself up as a willing participant, but that didn’t stop me on the final day. I knew I must have improved as he didn’t berate me for doing it, unlike the first time. But I almost wished he’d stopped me.
His mind was a dark place, filled with shadows. Shadows that concealed more secrets, I’m sure. He radiated deception, like the very foundation of him was built on it, and it made me wonder how much of what he’d told us was true, or if he was keeping the truth buried like my father.
At least my father was afraid of the truth—there was a reason for his deception. There wasn’t a drop of fear in Kalan, or if he was afraid, it was too subtle or too buried for me to get a read on.
Crimson stares and seems to be taking in the sights of this new place as Kalan stalks off towards the mismatch of buildings over the makeshift square.
“You good?” I ask.
She nods and continues absorbing the sights around us. She’s never been like this before, and I get a sense of the wonder she’s feeling, like a warmth emanating from her. It feels off. Crimson isn’t one for emotion or sentiment of any kind, but she’s here for me. To help. So, I let her be.
The buildings are similar to those within The Court, only bigger and taller, and all have a familiar silhouette. There ismuted colour, and trees encroach, as if they threaten to take their natural homes back from the invaders.
I look around and try to identify anyone from Kirrasia. Plenty of Kirrians are assigned to towns and villages in Nehandun and Sunatora to help ensure people thrive and peace remains. I guess I haven’t fully considered what that looks like until now. That was never my path. At least, that’s what I once thought.
“Come on. We have a way to go.” Kalan beckons to us, and I nod, encouraging Crimson. She takes a look back at the small port town, as if she’s trying to remember it and commit it to memory, before she turns to me and marches off towards Kalan.
He has no horses, no additional supplies. Just what we came with.
“What’s the plan?” Despite being confined to the ship for three days, the details of what would happen when we reached Nehandun remained only for Kalan to know.
“We go to see Fenix.”
“Just like that?”
He turns and gives us a wry smile. “No, boy. Not just like that. But we’ll see.”
“You know where they are?” Crimson asks, keeping in step with me.
“Last time I checked.”
“And when was that? When was the last time you checked on Ever?” My anger lashes out in words.
“I saw Fenix six months ago.”
“And he knew about Ever? Because you told him and you’ve kept everything from her.”
“Enough with the indignation crap. You know nothing. NOTHING. So, shut up, and do what I tell you or you’ll be dead before you ever see her again.”
My hand flexes and reaches for the knife at my back, but I swallow that gut reaction. Fighting won’t help. Not yet. And not with Kalan.
A few people nod and tip their hats to Kalan as we leave along the only path from the port heading north, affirming how familiar he is with this place.
We are less than an hour on the road before Kalan ventures off the formal path. Crimson and I share a look that questions whether we can trust this man, or if he’s simply leading us into a trap, but I have to believe he has Ever’s interests at heart.
We continue as the ground hardens, and the grasses blend into a wild and rugged terrain, and we see mountains ahead. Craggy rocks and steep slopes descend into woodland.
