tell our leader that you are en route.”
“You are most kind! I look forward to continuing our conversation,” Arcturus said. He gave the man a nod and hurried back to the tailor’s shop. Kariayla was waiting for him, a smile upon her face as she presented her new attire. The back of the shirt had been modified to suit her wings, and while the outfit had clearly been intended for a boy, it was practical for travel.
“It was all I had for someone her size,” the tailor defended. “It is a child’s—”
“It is adequate,” Arcturus interrupted, dropping money into the man’s hand. “And now we must hurry, for we will be late for our appointment.”
“You know where to go?” Kariayla asked as they rushed from the shop.
“Fortune was kind,” he said.
“Thank you, Arcturus.”
“Of course, my dear.” Now where is the east gate?
“Would you like your coins back?”
“Hold on to them for now.” He hated feeling pressed for time. It was a stress he could do without. “If we could see—” She was not behind him. “Kariayla?”
“Arcturus, look!”
She was standing beside a market stall, pointing toward the sky.
“My dear,” he said, exasperated, “we really cannot delay.”
“It’s circling,” Kariayla murmured. “It must be a sign from the Spirits. Maybe it is guiding us.”
Arcturus followed her sight to the white hawk soaring a distance from them. “That is a reassuring notion, but there is no logic behind a connection between us and the bird.” He took her hand. “We cannot spare a moment.”
Kariayla nodded, and they were off again.
As it turned out, the east gate was exactly where the hawk circled. The caravan was assembled with a collection of nobility and wealthy merchants. Jaharo was among them, waiting for Arcturus and Kariayla to join him. He seemed surprised by her appearance.
“Mr. Halensa, this is Kariayla, my companion,” Arcturus said.
“Nemelorean,” Jaharo mused. He gave a slight bow to her. “A pleasure.”
Kariayla blushed.
“My dear, Mr. Halensa is a renowned map-maker.”
“Cartography,” she said, clearly impressed.
Jaharo grinned, and Arcturus took his turn to blush, though it was impossible for anyone else to tell.
“You should know that I am hardly a distinguished passenger on this journey,” Jaharo said. “We are surrounded by important people.” He gestured to a decorated carriage encircled by mounted guards. “Duke Dinorthon, for one.” He went on to mention names associated with other carriages and wagons. Neither Arcturus nor Kariayla were familiar with any of them.
“I am certain introductions will be made as we travel,” Jaharo said, leading them to a particular wagon. “There is room inside for the both of you.”
“Will you not be joining us?” Arcturus asked, disappointed. He watched as the tall man approached an equally tall horse laden with saddlebags and supplies.
“I will be riding alongside you,” Jaharo assured him. “If you should need anything, our guide is Mr. Grifynn. I would be happy to fetch him for you.”
“Thank you,” Arcturus said, and he and Kariayla set to climbing in the wagon. Despite the rough appearance of its exterior, the inside was padded with blankets and pillows for their comfort. There were a few other passengers who regarded them warily.
Arcturus ignored them. “I think we should be able to manage this.”
Kariayla smiled.
Just as they settled in, the caravan began to move, and soon they were passing through the gate and out of the royal city, bound for Valesage.
~*~
T here was a deep reverberation—an occurrence of increasing frequency. Not unlike an advancing thunderstorm, Arcturus’s stomach was a brewing conflict. His irritability grew stronger as he became hungrier. He had since ceased his apologies for the sound. “I do hope they intend to provide the passengers with some manner of sustenance,” he grumbled. “It would be grossly negligent for them to allow us to
“You are most kind! I look forward to continuing our conversation,” Arcturus said. He gave the man a nod and hurried back to the tailor’s shop. Kariayla was waiting for him, a smile upon her face as she presented her new attire. The back of the shirt had been modified to suit her wings, and while the outfit had clearly been intended for a boy, it was practical for travel.
“It was all I had for someone her size,” the tailor defended. “It is a child’s—”
“It is adequate,” Arcturus interrupted, dropping money into the man’s hand. “And now we must hurry, for we will be late for our appointment.”
“You know where to go?” Kariayla asked as they rushed from the shop.
“Fortune was kind,” he said.
“Thank you, Arcturus.”
“Of course, my dear.” Now where is the east gate?
“Would you like your coins back?”
“Hold on to them for now.” He hated feeling pressed for time. It was a stress he could do without. “If we could see—” She was not behind him. “Kariayla?”
“Arcturus, look!”
She was standing beside a market stall, pointing toward the sky.
“My dear,” he said, exasperated, “we really cannot delay.”
“It’s circling,” Kariayla murmured. “It must be a sign from the Spirits. Maybe it is guiding us.”
Arcturus followed her sight to the white hawk soaring a distance from them. “That is a reassuring notion, but there is no logic behind a connection between us and the bird.” He took her hand. “We cannot spare a moment.”
Kariayla nodded, and they were off again.
As it turned out, the east gate was exactly where the hawk circled. The caravan was assembled with a collection of nobility and wealthy merchants. Jaharo was among them, waiting for Arcturus and Kariayla to join him. He seemed surprised by her appearance.
“Mr. Halensa, this is Kariayla, my companion,” Arcturus said.
“Nemelorean,” Jaharo mused. He gave a slight bow to her. “A pleasure.”
Kariayla blushed.
“My dear, Mr. Halensa is a renowned map-maker.”
“Cartography,” she said, clearly impressed.
Jaharo grinned, and Arcturus took his turn to blush, though it was impossible for anyone else to tell.
“You should know that I am hardly a distinguished passenger on this journey,” Jaharo said. “We are surrounded by important people.” He gestured to a decorated carriage encircled by mounted guards. “Duke Dinorthon, for one.” He went on to mention names associated with other carriages and wagons. Neither Arcturus nor Kariayla were familiar with any of them.
“I am certain introductions will be made as we travel,” Jaharo said, leading them to a particular wagon. “There is room inside for the both of you.”
“Will you not be joining us?” Arcturus asked, disappointed. He watched as the tall man approached an equally tall horse laden with saddlebags and supplies.
“I will be riding alongside you,” Jaharo assured him. “If you should need anything, our guide is Mr. Grifynn. I would be happy to fetch him for you.”
“Thank you,” Arcturus said, and he and Kariayla set to climbing in the wagon. Despite the rough appearance of its exterior, the inside was padded with blankets and pillows for their comfort. There were a few other passengers who regarded them warily.
Arcturus ignored them. “I think we should be able to manage this.”
Kariayla smiled.
Just as they settled in, the caravan began to move, and soon they were passing through the gate and out of the royal city, bound for Valesage.
~*~
T here was a deep reverberation—an occurrence of increasing frequency. Not unlike an advancing thunderstorm, Arcturus’s stomach was a brewing conflict. His irritability grew stronger as he became hungrier. He had since ceased his apologies for the sound. “I do hope they intend to provide the passengers with some manner of sustenance,” he grumbled. “It would be grossly negligent for them to allow us to
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