Arcane Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 2) (4 page)

12

Adaryn

“
T
here it is. Sen Altare.” It was dawn. We all stood together on a tall rise, looking down at the city. It was big. Bigger than Ruis, even. I hadn’t thought a city could be bigger than Ruis, with all its factories and mansions, but this city was both bigger and brighter. The city walls were white, and an impossibly tall edifice, snowy pale and thin, rose in the heart of the city. My memories of Sen Altare were dim, but I vaguely remembered my father calling that narrow structure a castle. My father had brought me down with the clan for trading.

Bran had been the one who’d spoken. His face was flushed with excitement and he grinned at me. “Let's go.”

I nodded and turned to Aaric, who was gawking at the city. He looked impressed. “It's . . . different from Ruis.”

I smiled at him. “Much prettier than your city.”

Aaric nodded, still staring down at it.

I tugged at his arm, and he urged his horse to follow me. Bran and his stallion had already started down the hill.

It had been a week since being ambushed by the brigands. We hadn't seen any other signs of them, fortunately. At one point we did see soldiers marching down the dry, dusty road ahead of us, but we stayed hidden and they passed without a glance in our direction.

The road soon became crowded with farmers, peddlers and straggly, footsore travelers.
Like us,
I thought wryly.

An hour later we stood in line to get through the gates. I felt shut in, and it was with some apprehension that I looked ahead as the gates drew nearer. I wasn't ready to enter another city.

Aaric, next to me, leaned over and patted me on the shoulder. “You're going to do fine, Adaryn.” He almost had to shout over the din of the crowd. “Remember, our stay is temporary.”

I nodded. Bran looked at me oddly, but didn't say anything.

Another half hour we were through the gates and in the city. I had never entered the city before. The nomads did their trading right outside the gate.

People clogged the streets, filling the air with a dull roar, but the similarities to Ruis ended there. It was completely unlike Ruis.

The streets were unpaved, and the air seemed to hold a perpetual cloud of dust. Shopkeepers shouted from their doors, trying to lure passersby. Farmers and traders were just as loud, trying to entice people to stop and look at their produce and wares.

Ruis' buildings had been drab and gray; here the buildings were white, yellow, or lime green stucco with bright red roofs. Chickens ran wild in the streets, clucking and flapping in every direction.

The people’s clothing was often torn and dirty, but brightly colored. Men wore voluminous white shirts tucked in at the waist and breeches of vibrant color. Women dressed in white blouses and long, full skirts, with eye-jarring prints and patterns.

I felt myself drifting; I didn't know which way to go. The sights, sounds and smells of this place were unfamiliar, but not unpleasant and entirely fascinating. There was something off about
something
, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Aaric took me by the arm, guiding me down the street. “We need to find an inn,” he said as we weaved through the crowds. Bran followed closely on our heels, holding the horses’ reins.

The street rose gradually uphill, looking a little cleaner and less crowded as it inclined. The people looked slightly tidier in this part of the city.

Aaric passed several inns before he finally stopped in front of a two-story building. It was painted bright yellow and had the same red tiled roof. A large sign hung above the door, depicting a cat standing on one foot, front paws flung up in the air.

“The Dancing Cat,” Bran snorted. “Silly name.”

Aaric shrugged. “Looks less dirty than some of the other inns we've passed. We'll try here.”

Bran led the horses to the back of the inn where the stables would be kept, while Aaric and I went inside. The front room was huge—Aaric called it a common room—with two unlit fireplaces on either end and several tables, benches and chairs between. A young woman was sweeping the floor.

The innkeeper was a fat, balding man wearing an apron, bright green trousers and a white shirt with rolled up sleeves. He bowed in greeting to us and, after quick introductions, led us up the staircase to show us our rooms. Aaric requested two—one room for him and Bran, and another for myself.

My room was small, but bright and cheerful. The walls were painted a brilliant yellow, with blue curtains at the window. The bed was covered with a patchwork quilt of every color imaginable.

I dumped my belongings on the floor and hurried out of the room as the innkeeper showed Aaric where he and Bran would stay. Their room was only slightly larger and looked similar to mine, with two beds instead of one.

The innkeeper left, leaving Aaric and I standing alone. I walked over and slipped my arms around his waist, laying my head on his chest. His arms went around me.

“What now?” I asked, not moving. It felt good to be alone again with him. Bran had warmed up a little since the brigand attack, but I missed the time Aaric and I spent alone in the woods.

Aaric said nothing for a moment, reaching up to run a hand through my hair. It didn't work very well; his fingers kept snagging on matted strands. I winced.

“Now we find the Scholar's Guild,” he said. “According to my father's notes, he spent a good deal of time with them. I hope to find some leads there.”

I thought for a moment. “Seems like a long shot, doesn't it? I mean, they may not have even heard of the sky jewels this far south.”

Aaric hesitated. I looked up and saw indecision on his face.

“My . . . father believed in the sky jewels,” he said at last.

I stared, thunderstruck. “Your father?” I asked, flabbergasted. “Why didn't you mention that sooner? You didn't tell Oisin that.”

Aaric arched an eyebrow at my accusatory tone. “I wasn't going to tell Oisin any more than I had to. I don't trust people who want to kill me. Besides, despite my father's best efforts, he wasn't able to find one. For all I know, the sky jewels really are myths.”

That made sense. I bit my lip, thinking. “So you think this . . . guild can help you find one?”

Aaric shrugged. “I don't know. My father seemed to think that there might be one here.”

“Why did your father want one anyway?” That didn't add up to me. “He didn't use magic.”

“I don't know.”

We both fell silent as we heard light footsteps approach our door and a moment later, Bran came in. He looked at us, still in our embrace, but said nothing, stepping over to the window.

“There's something wrong with the city.”

I turned. He stood erect with his hands held behind his back, his hair tied in its customary tail. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“The people here are afraid of something. Didn't you notice?”

I’d noticed that there was something wrong, and now that he mentioned it, I could see what he said was true. Business seemed to go on as usual for a city, but the people moved furtively and quickly, almost as if they were afraid of something.

“I didn't notice anything,” Aaric said.

Bran snorted. “You wouldn't.”

Aaric's eyes glittered as he turned to Bran, and I quickly spoke, hoping to dispel the tension. “We haven't eaten in a while. Why don't we go see if we can find some dinner?”

Both men eyed me with irritation, seeing right through my ploy. It worked though—Aaric shrugged and headed for the door, Bran following. I took up the rear.

As we went back outside, I puzzled over everything Aaric had said. I hadn't expected Aaric's father to know anything about magic, and was even more surprised that it was something he searched for. I desperately hoped that this Scholar's Guild Aaric mentioned would know something about it, or we’d come down here for nothing.

A thought struck me, and I froze. Perhaps we hadn't come down here for nothing. If we couldn't find a sky jewel, who said we had to go back? We could just stay here. Perhaps my father would try to find me, but I knew Oisin wouldn't bother to relocate his entire tribe just to find me. They would come south eventually, but it would be for trade.

Aaric called to me, several feet ahead, and I hurried to catch up, shoving the thoughts of my family aside. I would have to worry about it later.

13

Aaric

L
unch was very different fare from what Aaric was used to. They ordered from a street vendor and were served flat bread rolled up, containing beans, meat and a spicy concoction of peppers and onions that burned his throat and made his eyes water. It was delicious though, and he ate every last scrap.

They sat off the side of the street, watching people come and go. Some of the king's guards walked through at one point, about ten or twelve in a straight line of pairs. Some of the people shouted and waved, others cringed and disappeared into the crowd. Aaric frowned. Odd to have such a mixed reaction.

“Well, I'm off.” Bran stood up, brushing crumbs off his trousers.

“Where are you going?” Adaryn asked. She had eaten her food as quickly as the men; her eyes still watering from the peppers.

“To see what news I can get from the city,” Bran replied. “I want to know what's going on.”

Aaric nodded. That made sense. He stood as well and extended a hand to Adaryn, helping her to her feet. Bran melded into the crowd.

“What are we going to do?” Adaryn wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Shades alive, those peppers were hot.”

“We are going to go find that guild,” Aaric replied.

They walked for close to an hour, staying off the street to avoid the worst of the traffic.

“Do you know where it is?” Adaryn walked beside him.

“No, but I have a general idea,” Aaric replied. “I talked to the innkeeper this morning and he gave me some directions.” He glanced over at a couple of young women walking by. Their white blouses were embroidered with bright flowers and vines and were cut much lower than the fashion in Ruis. Adaryn made a growling noise in her throat. “I can't believe any woman would dress like that,” she sniffed. “They have no self-respect.”

Aaric shot her a look, a smile playing on his lips. “Really? I was just thinking you'd look quite lovely in a blouse like that.”

Adaryn's face flushed bright red. “Oh . . . well, I mean, if it's just you, maybe I—”

Aaric saved her any further embarrassment by pointing ahead. “There it is,” he said. “The Scholar's Guild.”

The guild wasn't much to look at on the outside, but it did look different from the stucco painted houses that dominated the city. It was a large, rickety building constructed of wooden planks. The paint was peeling and the sign was faded.

Aaric’s heartbeat quickened. It was here that his father had spent so much of his time and it was here that Aaric hoped to find some answers. He hastened his steps and Adaryn lifted her skirts a little to keep up.

He knocked loudly on the door, and a few moments later it opened. A rail-thin man stood in the doorway, looking at them. “Can I help you?”

Aaric nodded his head politely. “Yes. I would like to speak to Luna Flores, please.”

The man's brow furrowed slightly. “Luna no longer works here.”

Aaric stared at him, thunderstruck. “What? What do you mean she no longer works here?” he spluttered. “She has to. My father worked with her on numerous occasions. It says so in his notes.”

The man looked at him oddly then shrugged. “She retired some years ago, sir.”

Aaric sighed heavily. “Well, may I come inside at any rate? I've traveled very far, and I need to talk to someone in the guild.”

“Visits are by appointment only,” the man said. His straw blond hair stuck out in the back and his eyes looked decidedly bulgy, like a frog's. “Would you like to make an appointment?”

“Yes, that would be splendid. I'll take the next available slot.”

The thin man pulled a small notebook out of his back pocket, and a short pencil. “We have one three weeks from now. Whose name should I put down?”

“Aaric Wright.” It was an effort to keep from grinding his teeth.
Three weeks?

“Three weeks then, at eleven o'clock. Good day, sir.”

“Wait,” Aaric put a hand on the door to keep the man from closing it. “Do you know where I can find Ms. Flores? It's very important.”

The thin man regarded him a moment, his large eyes narrowed. “I cannot recall, sir. Good day.”

The man promptly closed the door in their faces, leaving a thoroughly exasperated Aaric in the dusty street.

14

Adaryn

“
W
hat does he mean ‘by appointment only’?” Aaric's fists were clenched and his face was red with indignation. “How could he not recognize my last name? I'm the son of Baldwin Wright, for heaven's sake!”

I laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It's been a long time since your father was here. Perhaps others in the Guild will recognize his name.” Gazing up at Aaric, I saw he looked tired and hot; his face was sweaty and his hair disheveled. He also had a distinctly sour expression. Time to eat again, I supposed.

“Let's go back to the inn,” I suggested. “You look like you could use a meal and a refreshing drink.”

“I'm not hungry,” Aaric said contrarily, but allowed me to pull him back down the street.

It took us awhile to find the inn, and by the time we did, Aaric's grumpy mood had affected me as well. I requested that one of the maids bring a cool drink to my room and stomped upstairs, slamming my door and throwing myself on my bed.

It was unbearably hot, very different from the cool forests of the north. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.

I stripped down to my shift and walked over to the window, opening it. A light breeze wafted through, heavy with the scent of dust, doing little to relieve the heat.

The view didn't show much, just a dirty alleyway with the occasional passerby or stray animal. I leaned an elbow on the windowsill, cupping my chin in hand.

I heard a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” I said, turning. I expected to see a maid with the drink I had requested. Aaric and Bran were standing in the doorway, a glass in Aaric's hand. His eyes widened with surprise and color rose in his face. He coughed politely and looked away. Bran leaned on the doorframe, grinning ear to ear, as he looked me up and down.

I remembered with horror that I was only wearing my shift, and it was quite thin at that. My face warmed as I hurried over to my bed, snatching up my skirt and blouse. “Do you mind?” I snapped at Bran, who was looking at me with unabashed approval.

Aaric, looking at the floor, apparently thought I was talking to him. He backed up, nudging the rude nomad into the hall. “Sorry,” he managed in a strangled voice, still looking away from me. He sloshed the drink over his hand in his haste to depart, practically slamming the door.

I dressed swiftly and ran out into the hall, nearly bumping into the two men who were standing right outside. Aaric handed me the glass, his face still red.

“I saw the maid come up with your drink, and thought I'd bring it to you instead.”

I took it from him. It was pale yellow in appearance and tasted tart and sweet. It brought back a memory of me sitting by my father, drinking it. He had called it lemonade.

“Thank you,” I murmured. I drank it quickly.

Aaric coughed and ran a hand through his hair distractedly as Bran spoke up. “I think I’ve discovered why the people seem so worried. From the gossip I heard, there's been a rash of outlaws terrorizing the surrounding countryside. Farmers and merchants alike have been attacked, as well as common travelers. Some are killed, though most are just robbed.”

“So our being attacked wasn't uncommon, then,” I said, refusing to look in Aaric's direction; I was afraid of blushing again.

“Not really, no,” he said. “But ours
was
uncommon in that we were able to fend them off withou
t
any loss of life or possessions. Those who wield it practice magic down here, but it's not nearly as common to have it as it is up north, it seems. I believe it gave us the upper hand, as they probably weren't expecting it.”

I nodded. What he said made sense. We had looked like defenseless travelers, until attacked.

“That's not all,” Bran went on. “The king has been sending his soldiers out to try and combat the brigands, but as a result he's needed to raise taxes by a large percentage. Many of the people take it as an unfortunate fact of war, but some are quite upset over it. There wasn't much talk of it in the open, but I think there's a small faction that wants to overthrow the king and install new leadership.”

“Can't imagine the king agrees with that,” Aaric chuckled.

Bran shook his head. “I doubt he's heard it. The rumor was more of a choked whisper, really.”

“That doesn't make sense,” I protested. “Why would they want to overthrow the man who is trying to protect them?”

“I don't know,” Bran admitted, “but I hope to find out.”

He turned down the hallway to go to his room when I touched his shoulder, stopping him. “Bran, we need your help.”

Bran turned back, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Aaric is trying to find a woman.” I frowned at Bran's sudden smile. “An
old
woman,” I grumbled.

“Didn't know you had an interest here in Sen Altare, Aaric,” Bran snickered.

Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Aaric rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify Bran's comment with an answer.

“Her name is Luna Flores,” I said. “She used to work at the Scholar's Guild, but retired. We don't know where she lives. She knew Aaric's father, and may be our only lead to finding the sky jewel.”

Bran looked at me quizzically. “What makes you think I can find her? There are probably thousands of old ladies in this city.”

I waved my hand dismissively. “You just spent the afternoon getting a bunch of people to talk about their troubles to a total stranger. Surely finding an old lady will be no difficulty at all.”

Bran shrugged. “Guess we don't have anything better to do for now.” He eyed Aaric. “How are we doing for coin?”

Aaric looked a little uncomfortable. “Fine.”

Bran and I shared the same flat stare, looking at Aaric. The man squirmed. “Well, I didn't have time to grab much while we were in Ruis, so . . . we have enough to stay here for another couple of weeks, I think.”

“Did you bring any money?” Bran asked me. I shook my head. “I didn't either,” he said. “We hardly ever need it at home.”

“We're going to be homeless in a matter of days
again
,” Aaric said glumly.

“Nonsense,” I said briskly. “We're nomads. Home is wherever you happen to be.”

Aaric sighed. “Sleeping in hollows and under hedges is
not
home.” He frowned thoughtfully. “If I could just get into the Scholar's Guild, maybe I could sell some of my invention ideas. I doubt they have gliders here.”

“Except your stupid appointment isn't for another three weeks,” I pointed out. “You could sell the idea to the king.” I tapped my lip, musing.

Aaric shook his head. “You don't sell anything to a king. You give it, and if you're lucky, he might reward you with some gifts. Maybe.”

“Let's find this old lady,” Bran said. “If you really believe she can help us find a sky jewel, then she is our top priority.”

He started back toward his room. “I'm going to bathe,” he called over his shoulder. “Let's talk in the morning.”

Aaric and I looked at each other. “He's right,” Aaric said at last. “We need to find Luna.”

I nodded silently. Aaric turned to leave as well. “Aaric,” I said. He stopped. I hesitated a moment, then rushed on. “Even if all this sky jewel stuff doesn't work out, we can still stay here. Oisin won't follow us down this far south and even if he did, he probably wouldn't even be able to find us.”

Aaric studied me a moment, his gray eyes thoughtful. He shook his head. “No, Adaryn, I promised. I have to find it.”

“That's stupid!” My temper flared. “You don't even know if this thing is real. Aaric, your father wasted years of his
life
trying to find it and never did.”

“I believe it's real,” Aaric said simply. I wanted to strangle sense into the man. He was just being plain stubborn. “Besides,” he went on, “you know Bran will get in the way if we try to ditch our original plans.”

I bit my lip, vexed. I hadn't thought of that.

Aaric took me in his arms, bringing me in for a close embrace. “Take heart, love,” he said gently. “We'll find a way.”

I snuggled my face in his shoulder, breathing deep. Even after weeks of him being coffee-free, I could smell it in his shirt. I would let him try and find this jewel, but if we couldn't find it, I
had
to find a way to release him from his promise.