"It is beautiful, is it not?" Vivienne's black-lacquered nails tapped the window. "To move about in the day like this without the sunlight stunting our powers." Her smile widened. "This carriage is a wonderful gift from the High Lady. Just for this alone, I would serve her."
"Remember, it's just a loan," Anon said. "And we are all the more vulnerable in the open like this. A simple crack, an open door could make us just as weak and useless as they." He gestured to the crowds around them.
She was right though. He had scarcely seen the daylight since he received the Gift. Everything looked different by day. Everything glowed.
Vivienne laughed again, leaning forward to place her hand on his knee.
"Anon dear, you must learn to appreciate the moment. We may have forever, but that does not mean we have to miss the simple pleasures. And this," she leaned back against the luxuriously cushioned seat. " — is a rare pleasure indeed."
She lifted a crystal glass from its holding place by her side and gazed at him from under her thick lashes. "Now pour me a drink."
Laughing, Anon lifted the matching stein and poured the aged Runet wine for her. As the carriage rolled onto the fabled Auric Bridge, he caught sight of the same pair he had noticed earlier. It was hard to tell, but the woman's face was close to the description: young, with golden brown hair braided down her back. Could it be…?
He shook his head. Vivienne was right — the girl could be anywhere, but surely she could not have made it all the way to Kaerleon. There was nothing for her there. He saw ghosts in the fog, creating the image of the Shama because he wanted it to be her. Better to concentrate on what was in front of him. As Vivienne said, better to appreciate the moment.
He met her eyes with a smile. Snow continued to drift down as the brilliant carriage continued on its way toward the shining city of Kaerleon.
Chapter 20: Marcellus
Heavy snow fell as Marcellus crossed the Auric Bridge. Besides an icy and almost certainly fatal swim across the choppy Bay of Lions, it was the only way to enter Leodia. Although the bridge spanned nearly seventy paces across, it was thick with steady traffic that forced him to move at the pace of the masses that traveled in and out of the island.
The Auric was a remnant from the Age of Illumination, when the Aelon still dwelt alongside men. It appeared as if constructed from a single unit of pure frosted glass, connected only at the ends where the bridge met the opposite land masses. There was not a single ridge to disturb a foot or wagon wheel, and despite appearing to be slick as ice, it provided sure footing.
Nyori was wrapped in silence as she rode beside him. Her head swiveled as she took in the sights of Kaerleon for the first time. She kept her thoughts inward, not bothering to speak of surely had to be wondrous to her. She had been subdued ever since the unfortunate incident in Parand. It was not the first time they had encountered raiding parties on the long trek back. The roads were thick with bandits taking advantage of Leodia's disarray. The Shama didn't understand that talk would not sway such men. Marcellus knew better, but somehow her soundless disapproval irritated him like an itch he couldn't scratch.
He should have heeded her warning to avoid the main road, but he had not wanted to slow down. Because of his stubbornness, he had to kill those men. The Shama had amazing powers of perception, something he had not truly believed until she had proven herself right time and again. She had other powers as well. What had happened in the wild…
HIS EYES SNAPPED OPEN. Light flooded his vision, and something terrible howled around him. He shielded his eyes. It took seconds to realize a massive storm rumbled all around, yet the rain didn't touch him. Lightning struck everywhere in rapid succession, tearing the brush and small trees apart in sizzling pieces.
Nyori stood in the midst of it all, bathed golden in the light of her upraised staff. Tiny Glyphs patterned her arms and hands, tattoos of light that shimmered from her skin. Her face was tilted upward, her eyes closed, her face lustrous. Her hair and clothes flailed in the wind, but she didn't appear to notice. The storm raged around them, but Nyori stood undaunted as if the gale were hers to command.
Fire writhed across Marcellus' chest. He stared disbelievingly at the runes that blazed across his skin as if painted by the lightning…
MARCELLUS GAVE NYORI a sidelong glance. The cryptic characters had quickly faded from his skin and disappeared. He still wasn't sure what she had done, or if much of what he'd seen had been a fever dream right before awakening. But he had been different since that moment. He rarely felt tired, and when he moved against the bandits, it was as if he felt the storm inside of him. He flowed like the wind, faster than he ever had in his life. He felt alive as though for the first time.
Nyori hadn't explained anything except that she'd restored him to full health. When he tried to press the issue, she told him that she was forbidden to reveal the secrets of the Sha.
There wasn't much he could say to that.
A pair of Jaferians rode beside them. Thick headdresses covered their heads and fell to their shoulders. Tasseled cloaks made of sheep's wool draped over their robes, and each had the customary curved scimitar strapped to their saddles. The nearest one rode a testy Barbar, who stretched out to nip at Marcellus' horse. The rider jerked the reins in time and murmured an apology.
Marcellus nodded and rode on. In his mind he saw Shadowdancer once again, body pierced with arrows, struggling to rise…
No. I won't think of that right now. All that matters is getting home.
They passed merchant wagons from Runet and Jafeh, lords and ladies in their carriages from Parand and Doric, a train of soldiers on foot in from their patrol, and a crowd of Norlanders who roared and shouted loud enough to be heard over everything else.
Marcellus rode without notice; his face lost under his wide hood. His concentration only slipped once, while passing a gleaming carriage. The entire coach was lacquered in white, even the wheels which whirred silently on the road. The windows were reflective, burnished like mirrors and impossible to see into. A hunched, dwarfish man in black livery held the reins in the seat in front of the carriage, a tall-brimmed hat atop his wide, misshapen head.
Marcellus stared for but a moment before he resumed his trance as the end of the bridge drew near.
Nyori did not speak, seemingly absorbed in observing the crowds. He doubted she had ever seen such a mass before. He could not help the swell of admiration that suddenly bloomed. He'd set a pace that would have wearied even the most experienced rider, yet she had not complained.
Nyori needed to rest more than he did. It took reminders from her that neither she nor the horses could match his pace. They had spent nights in the open when no town was nearby, under trees in freezing rain and snow with only a small fire and each other for warmth, huddling under the blankets. Fully clothed of course, but any other time those nights would have been distracting had his every thought not been on the journey home. He didn't know if she felt any similar discomfort. Probably not. She was from the Steppes, after all. Her people lived a different way of life.
He did not understand why she insisted so strongly on accompanying him. It would have probably been safer with the Mandru. All she had told him was that it was vital that she go with him to Kaerleon. She said that everything that happened to both of them centered around that city. When he persisted with questions, she simply told him that it was the 'certainty of knowing,' apparently another gift of the Sha that he wasn't meant to understand.