Bala sat up. "Letter from our Commander," she said, and she started to rip the paper. "Let's hope he's not done anything stupid," she mumbled.
The words on the page were simple:
Come in five days. We have business to talk.
"Important?" Bael asked.
"Something is," Bala answered. "I'll need you to cover me a day or so when I travel to him."
"We have new rebels in our midst, and you're leaving?" Bael asked.
"I don't think he'd be asking me to come if it weren't important," she countered. She tapped the letter on the table with a sigh. "Get some sleep, Bael. We need to do another weapons inventory tomorrow and possibly every day after. I want to know if these rebels have taken anything and what they're planning."
Bala left Bael in charge when she left on the fifth morning, and a nervousness rattled her heart as she left her kingdom on foot.
She passed by Duarb on the way, just wanting a quick drop in to say, "Hello Father," to him before pressing her hand to the trunk and sighing against the black wriggling tongues. To any other person, it probably looked odd, but she'd been coming and doing this same ritual to her father's tree for years. Even Draven had called her out on it one day, and the memory made her smile.
"Why do you do that?" he asked, staring at her, arms crossed over his chest.
Bala smiled back at him, noting the squint of his sage gaze. "It's our tree."
"It'stongues,"Draven countered. "Tongues of the Infi, at that."
"I'm aware," she insisted. "But... It’s like you can feel him breathe. It's comforting. You should try it."
Draven’s left brow jetted upwards, and she almost laughed at the familiar look.
"Come on," she urged him. "Feel it."
Draven sighed, still eyeing her, but he stepped forward anyway. "Yeah, okay," he gave in. The grimace that spread over his features made her bite her lips to stifle the amusement. He reached out, and his hand was slowly consumed into the black tongues.
"This is..." Words seemed to stop in his throat, and he took a deep breath as he settled there, head hanging.
"Home," she said as though it were obvious.
"Disgusting," he countered.
Her mouth dropped at his choice of words, and Draven laughed. His deep bellow made her head shake.
"You don't feel it?" she asked, voice a higher pitch.
"No, I get it. I see what you mean," he said reassuringly. "It is slightly comforting to the core. Doesn't make it any less disgusting. I think... Yes. One did just tongue my palm as though my hand were a woman."
At this, Bala's smile faltered, and she shook her head at his banter. Draven laughed a great, “Ha!” and he jokingly pointed at her when he pushed off the tree.
"Come on,” he said, dusting his hands on his pants. “Naddi will be beside himself if he thinks we've forgotten him."
Bala's heart hurt at the memory, and she closed her eyes a moment longer.
By the time she reached the Umber, the sun was high over her head. People were gathering off the shores to break from their duties for lunch. A few of them greeted her, including some of the children. They bounded to her with hugs. One of them asked her where the big guy was, and she knew he meant Draven.
"He's not with me this time," she said. "Maybe when you're older, you'll see him again."
It was an exaggeration of a hope she wasn't sure she knew how to hang on to.
As Bala worked her way through the market and homes, she finally reached the stretch of beach, and she sighed as she embraced the sun on her skin.
"Venari King," a familiar voice drawled. Bala knew that voice, and she turned to find Soli Amberglass approaching her. Bala's lips pressed together thinly at the sight of the great warrior, but she hugged her nonetheless.
