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I think back to the conversation that Lorelai and I had before we left.
“If we stop overnight, to camp, to rest, it’ll take us a week to get there!”
Lorelai’s voice was hard and passionate, and when she spoke, I could feel the urgency rippling through the air and practically bouncing off my skin.
“I agree. We’ll stop to water the equus, but that is all.”
And now, here we were.
I had traveled throughout Nagaland before, years ago when I was much younger.
I could still remember parts of the journey. It was a diplomatic tour for King and Queen Andakya, and I think it was the most freedom that Zalith and I ever had.
But now, as we get ever closer to Lodra, I realize that I had forgotten how hard parts of Nagaland could be.
I was so used to seeing miles and miles of lush, green land. I was so used to staring out at overgrown, healthy forests.
The stark reality is that not all of Nagaland was as beautiful as Lodra.
No. A lot of Nagaland is stunningly beautiful. But the parts that are not have been allocated for the humans.
The logic is obvious. All naga saw humans as inferior, as less than animals.
Why should we allow them to benefit from the city centers that have an abundance of clean, fresh water? Why should we allow them to benefit from the farms close to the villages, where they could plant their own crops?
It isn’t a sentiment I agree with, of course. But it hits me at that moment, how the odds were stacked against the humans before they even got started. There was never a chance, because the naga made sure of it.
I look over at Lorelai, at the sweat glistening on her lean, muscular back, and swallow as my mouth goes dry.
Before meeting Aurora, and seeing Zalith’s interactions with Aurora, I had never given much thought to humans and the lives they lived.
But, after having spent hours with Aurora, and now Lorelai, a lot is troubling me about the way my people treat humans.
“We should stop!” Lorelai calls to me and urges her equu over to a little dense grove on the side of the trail that we are riding on. “They need water,” she huffs as she jumps off the back of the tall, broad equu and lands lightly on the ground.
“They need water,” she repeats, “And I need to put my scarf back on before we hit civilization.”
The equu I ride, called Ash, follows Storm, Lorelai’s equu, and comes to a stop close to the edge of the trail.
This dense grove of trees, and the foliage surrounding it, was the first sign of life we had seen for hours.
Lorelai finds a stream of water instantly, and I pull my satchel off my back and kneel at the edge of the stream.
Lorelai sits down next to me and takes the bread and capra cheese I hand her.
“We can’t rest for too long,” she murmurs, glancing up at the slowly darkening sky. “I don’t think traveling through this place at night is a good idea, and if things were different, I’d insist we take shelter. But the sooner we get to Lodra, the better.”
I nod, remaining in contemplative silence as I consider Lorelai and what I have learned about her.
Now that I know she has magic, there are certain things about her that make sense.
“I think we should just stay here for a while. The equus need rest.” My voice is quiet and gentle, to my surprise. Lorelai stiffens next to me and then turns to look at me with narrowed eyes.
I shrug and try to smile.
“I’m not trying to slow us down. I want to get to Lodra as badly as you do. But we won’t get there if Ash and Storm die of exhaustion.”
After a moment’s tense silence, Lorelai nods, though her body isn’t any less tense.
