“Do you know how hard it is for a novice to shadow two people? What you just did takes years to master. We’re three-quarters of the way there. We can set up camp here for the afternoon while you regain your strength. See how you feel later.”
I nod in agreement.
Jace pulls a large tarp from the gray sack and unfolds it as I prop myself up on my palms. He stretches it out and takes a few steps back.
The tarp rises and expands like a balloon, forming four corners and a steep middle point. The tent stands perfectly erect as Jace turns back to me proudly.
“Nice,” I compliment. The corner of his mouth pulls up. I glance around at the strange sand-less beach surrounding us. Crystal blue water kissed with white foam crashes against tall, jagged rocks. Behind us is nothing but flat, dark gray rock as far as the eye can see. Nothing else.
“These are the Outlands?” I ask, taking another sip of water. Above us is an expansive sky of grayish blue. Cloudless. The kind of sky that heralds a brewing storm. Jace nods in confirmation.
“We’re on the Eastern border of Aeix. They call this Stone Beach.”
“Fitting,” I say dryly, watching Jace pull a small bedroll out of his pack and spread it on the tent floor. The gentle wind sends small ripples through the sides of the material.
“I thought it would be a safe bet for a checkpoint. The surrounding land is all but abandoned.”
“Why?”
“Harsh conditions. Nothing can grow here; it’s all rock. Rock and water.”
I get to my feet and take a few steps toward the tide.
“Don’t go any further,” he cautions, holding out a hand. I glance back at him, perplexed.
“The Naiads here are vicious and starved for flesh.”
“Naiads?” I ask.
“A type of water nymph,” he clarifies. “Don’t worry, they won’t come up past the shore. They need to be touching water at all times. Just stay away from the tide, and you’ll be fine.”
That doesn’t sound too reassuring.
“Why would the Redbloods relocate here with nothing around for miles?”
“They went further south, toward the Mydlands, where the magic is more potent. The Outlands are all brutal desert and flat rock land like this. It’s not an easy or comfortable journeyfor travelers passing through, which is what they wanted.” Jace waves a hand, and the flap of the tent pulls back. Stepping inside, I realize it’s more spacious than I thought. I sit cross-legged on the bedroll as Jace digs into his bag and extends an apple to me. I grimace, remembering how I puked my guts up a little while ago. He seems to realize it, too, as he stuffs the apple back into the bag and stretches out beside me.
“The island is just over this ocean.” He nods his head in the direction of the crashing waves outside the tent.
I try to stifle a yawn, but it gets the better of me.
“Sleep.”
“But—” I begin to protest, but he holds up a hand, gently quieting me.
“We’re in no hurry, little witch. Slow and steady.” I peer into his golden eyes, eyes I’ve known in other worlds, other lives. Heaving a sigh, I stretch out on my side and prop my head on my hand.
“Tell me a story.” He gives me a look that says,do I look like I do stories?
“It will help me sleep. Come on. Indulge me.”
“What kind of story, little witch?”
“Yours.”
He falls silent, staring into his lap as if weighing my question. I want to trace his silhouette as he hangs his head. I want to draw him, to remember this sight. The sight of a hardened warrior carrying secret scars on his heart. Heavy scars.
What weight has he carried on those shoulders over his long life?
