Chapter 8 - Golden Kingdom

It’s strange how the mind works. Whereas Taio had been at the front of my mind unceasingly since I met him, now I banned him from my thoughts. I spent the next two days completely absorbed in copying the scroll. I barely left the library, and when I did it was to eat or go up to the lookout and sleep. I spent as little time in my chamber and Gold House as possible. Technically, the library was in Gold House, but it felt separate and distant to me. Still, as much as I tried to block out everything except the scroll, my mind wandered thorny paths. Too often unwanted thoughts of Taio popped up from behind a hedge and broke my concentration. I began sitting with my back to the training field so I wouldn’t look up and accidentally catch sight of him.

But the more I concentrated on blocking him out, the more other people stepped on the path of my mind. My mother walked with me sometimes—not the mother who used me for clout at court but the mother of my childhood, who had been fun and full of adventure. Finnrey was often around a bend as well. I thought a great deal about her last moments and wished I’d had the cure I now worked on then. I’d made a promise to her before she was gone. I’d promised to send word back to her family. She’d wanted her brother to have her daggers and her full sisters, Riah and Broga, to have her clothes and jewelry. She’d wanted me to tell our father he’d been a good Papa to her and she’d wanted Thoe, the boy she’d once fancied herself in love with, to know he had not been all that good at kissing.

I smiled when I thought about that conversation. If Gaz and Nize made it back to Highcastle, everyone would know of her death now. I imagined Gaz would not take the blame. He’d probably say it was Taio’s fault. If I returned—when I returned—I could tell everyone the truth and pass on her personal messages. Mayhap I wouldn’t talk to Thoe...

I looked down at the scroll and realized I’d copied the last few words. I was done transcribing, and now it was time to decipher. I just had to trust I’d made the right choices when making my copy. I locked the original away, then sat again and withdrew a clean sheet of parchment. I dipped my pen in ink and began to translate the royal language into common Earslehen. The first part of the scroll was a sort of myth about the beginnings of the red vein virus. Taio had told me this tale before, and it was encouraging to read confirmation of what he’d said here. Considering that neither Taio nor Leed, who must have passed on the story, could read the scroll, this corroboration was promising.

By the time I’d finished the initial translation, my back hurt and the sky was turning lavender as dusk descended. I sat back, though, and read what I’d written.

In the seventy-third year of the reign of His Majesty King Wollem IV a woman of middle years born in the village of Elpsen and known to all there as Livah was gathering sticks for a fire in the wood. A wolf came upon her unawares and attacked. The woman was able to fend off the creature’s attack and make her way back home, though she was grievously injured.

There I was not exactly sure I had the translation correct. I couldn’t quite read the letters on the word I’d translated to grievous and if one loop was the tail of another letter then the word was instead mortally. But reading on, I felt grievously made more sense.

Healers from the village tended the woman, but her wounds were such that they sent a messenger to Highcastle for more skilled healers. But lo, before these healers arrived, the woman grew feverish. Her veins became more pronounced and transformed to bright shade of red. The woman known as Livah grew restless, and in the middle of the night, when all slept, the woman woke and attacked her daughter, biting the girl in the throat and killing her. Other villagers, wakened by the commotion, arrived to find Livah feasting on the flesh of her child.

In the struggle to remove the woman from the corpse, Livah bit two of the other villagers and scratched one of the healers newly arrived from Highcastle. Within hours, those bitten succumbed to the same infection and became ravenous for flesh. Death seemed the only method to relieve them of their suffering. All infected passed to the next realm except for the healer. His infection progressed more slowly but undeniably. He was the husband of another healer from Highcastle, and her name was Vasta. This Vasta begged to be allowed to attempt to cure him. She tried many potions and ointments and despaired of ever healing her husband.

My eyes burned with fatigue, but I hardly felt it. This scroll was a window into the past when people had traveled freely and land animals were plentiful. The only wolves I had ever seen were the two my father kept as pets. I couldn’t imagine seeing one in the wild. I desperately wanted to know what happened next in Vasta’s story, but I knew I would make mistakes if I continued. I was finally making progress, and in another day or two, I would be finished. I had to hope the Hollows at the river remained mindless and did not work out a way to cross the river before I had completed the translation and we’d concocted the cure.

I sent a note to Leed through one of the Gold House workers before gathering my bedroll and pack. I was growing used to sleeping on the lookout, and I found some comfort in being able to watch the Hollows. If another group coordinated a crossing, I wanted to be there to see it and stop it.

I locked away my work and went out the grand doors of Gold House, nodding to the two sentries who stood there. By now I knew the way to the air boat platform, but something about the twinkling lights of Gold Path called to me. I hefted my pack on my back and started down the avenue, looking into the open taverns and playhouses as I passed. Warm light shone from within and people laughed together, drank together, danced together. I felt like a voyeur watching these people who loved each other so loudly. I would never belong here. Even if they accepted me, I would never feel comfortable laughing with such abandon or being touched so freely.

But I wanted it like the ache of thirst after strenuous combat.

I craved that acceptance, that feeling of belonging. I’d never really belonged in Highcastle either. I had a place there, but that wasn’t the same as inclusion. Something inside me desperately wanted to belong here, though. It was impossible, but I felt the ache deep in my chest regardless.

I’d been so focused on watching a group of women embrace and laugh that I forgot to look where I walked. I stumbled right into someone, and immediately jumped back, holding my hands up to show I was not a threat. These Zulenii scared so easily. I muttered apologies in Zulenii and tried to move on.

“Mara?” said a male voice.

Startled, I met the gaze of the man I’d run into. Chu smiled at me and held his arms out for an embrace. I don’t know why I did it, but I walked into that embrace and hugged him back. Mayhap I was missing human contact. Mayhap I just wanted to feel part of something for a moment. And it felt good to be held by Chu. He smelled clean and somewhat floral, and he felt so solid and warm. I was almost disappointed when we parted. He looked down at me, his green eyes dark in the twinkling lights. “Where have you been?” he asked.

I pointed in the direction of Gold House. “Work,” I said.

“All work and no play is not the Zulenii way.”

I smiled. “I am not Zulenii.”

“Come and play,” he said, indicating a tavern. “Dance with me.”

I shook my head.

“Then drink.”

I shook my head. Chu made an exaggerated expression of disappointment. “Please, Mara. One drink.” He clasped his hands together and dropped to his knees. I looked around, afraid someone else might see.

“Fine. Yes.” I wanted him to stand before everyone saw him.

Chu clapped his hands, rose, and tugged me into the tavern where a woman sat on a stool with a guitara and sang what sounded like a mournful song. People danced together and alone, swaying in front of the stage where she perched. I was surprised to see Kintle dancing with that actor I’d met the night we arrived. Chu led me to a table, and I pointed to Kintle. “Kintle dance?”

“Oh, that’s Ngaro,” Chu said. “Everyone thought they had severed their tie, but it looks like they’ve knotted it again.”

I wasn’t certain I understood all the words he used, but I was happy to see Kintle looking happy. He rested his head on Ngaro’s shoulder.

Chu went to the bar and returned with two cups of wine. I wanted to remain clear-headed in case I needed to fight Hollows, so I took a very small sip. Chu rested his chin on his palm and smiled at me. “Are all of your people as beautiful as you?”

I almost choked on my wine. “No beautiful.”

He gave me a disbelieving look, lifted my hand, and kissed the palm. “You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How much vine water drink?”

He laughed and kissed my wrist. I pulled my hand away. His kiss was pleasant, but I didn’t feel anything more than the warmth of friendship for Chu. The performer began another song, and Chu moved closer to me. “This is one of my favorite songs. Do you understand the words?” he murmured in my ear.

I shook my head. The language was difficult to understand when people sang as they tended to run words together or use idioms I did not know. “It’s a love song,” Chu said. He put his arm on the back of my chair, and we listened for a few moments. The singer had a beautiful voice, not that I knew anything about singing. After a verse, I’d almost forgotten about Chu, but he leaned close again. “Where are you sleeping tonight, Mara?”

I was about to tell him that if I slept it was on the lookout platform, but then he murmured, “Come sleep with me.”

I always forgot how direct the Zulenii were. I supposed I should be as direct in my refusal, but when I looked at Chu, I could see the entrance to the tavern. Just over his shoulder, I spotted a familiar form moving into the room. I would know Taio anywhere, but even if I hadn’t seen him, I thought I would feel him. The atmosphere in the tavern changed, became more charged, as people turned to look at him and call out greetings of Zulenilo. He smiled and inclined his head, embracing several people, but his smile faded when his gaze landed on me. His expression hardened further when he saw Chu with his arm on the back of my chair. But Taio didn’t have long to glare at me because in the next moment Saabin and the woman I’d seen Taio fighting that first day on the training field joined him. They’d come in with him, but it took me a moment to realize because my gaze had been so fixed on Taio. I stiffened and turned my attention back to the stage. I might be sulking about the palace, trying my hardest not to miss Taio, but he was not missing me. He had plenty of women who could take my place.

“I see I’m to be disappointed again,” Chu said, his tone overly dramatic. “You only have eyes for Taio.”

I turned to Chu again, ready to apologize, but in so doing I spotted Taio again. Saabin had one arm wrapped around his waist and the other woman was smiling up at him. For a second—fine, more like five seconds—I thought about turning to Chu, kissing him, and letting him take me home. I wanted to see the pain and rejection I felt reflected on Taio’s face. But the feeling passed. Not only did I not want to hurt Taio, I wouldn’t use Chu like that. My gaze met Chu’s. “Thank you.” I lifted the wine to him in a small salute and took another small sip. “Good night.”

Chu rose as I did and pulled my chair out. He made me a sweeping bow, which caused my cheeks to heat, but he did not follow me as I walked past Taio and back onto Gold Path. The night air was cold after the warmth of the tavern, and I paused for a moment to find my bearings and take a bracing breath. Groups of laughing people brushed past me, and I moved through the crowds and toward the air boat. Up in the mountains, I would be able to have more perspective. Taio would be just one more person in the village below.

But right as I turned off Gold Path and onto a narrow street that gently ascended to the air boat platform, I heard footsteps behind me. I reached for my weapon—what I’d started thinking of as my long hammer—and glanced over my shoulder before drawing it. I’d learned the hard way that the Zulenii reacted badly to being met with a drawn weapon.

Taio stood behind me, his gaze on my hand at my belt. “I startled you,” he said.

I dropped my hand and tried to calm my breathing. Impossible with him standing there looking so unbearably handsome. He wore all black tonight, and his hair was in my favorite style, a top knot. I loved how striking his face looked in the mix of shadow and light. His eyes burned into me.

“I’m not startled. But I don’t like being followed.” And truthfully, I hadn’t expected him to follow me. Why wasn’t he still at the tavern with his adoring subjects?

“You are walking to the air boat,” he said.

“I am.” Summoning all my willpower, I gave him my back and started climbing toward the platform again. I really did not think he would follow me further, but a moment later, he was at my side.

“What are you doing?” I asked, glancing over at him and lengthening my stride. The action was useless as his legs were longer than mine, and he could easily match my pace. “Go back to the tavern.”

“Why do you go to the air boat?”

“I don’t know how else to get to the lookout platform.”

“You do not need to watch the Twilight Men. We have sentries. They will sound an alarm if they see danger.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t trust your sentries. I like to see for myself.”

The lane ended with the hill where the ladder to the platform for the air boat waited. Upon seeing it, I almost sighed in relief at being able to escape Taio. But just before we cleared the last house on the path, Taio grabbed my shoulder. I might have shaken him off, but I was so surprised that he touched me, I halted and looked up at him. He withdrew his hand, but my skin burned where his fingers had touched my tunic.

“Why do you sleep there?” he asked.

“I like it.”

His brow furrowed. “What is wrong with your chamber?”

It was full of memories with him. I was lonely in the big bed by myself. It was too close to his chamber and therefore tempting to go knock on his door. “I can’t sleep there,” I said, settling on a truth that gave nothing else away. “Is that all?” I raised my brows in a show of impatience.

He nodded. Then he shook his head.

Strange. Taio was always so sure of himself. I’d never seen him uncertain before.

“Why did you not go home with Chu? He must have asked.”

I looked away, my gaze on the air boat. The vessel sat in the dock, waiting for me. Twenty steps and I could be up the ladder. In another moment I’d be up in the air, far away from Taio’s questions. My heart would stop pounding when I was further away from him, and my hands would cease shaking. I clasped them behind my back before meeting Taio’s eyes again. “I don’t want Chu.”

He held my gaze for a long moment. I saw Taio’s throat work, and I wondered if he would say something else. But he stepped back and gestured to the air boat. “I will not keep you.”

“Thank you.” I walked away, my legs so unsteady I was afraid I’d stumble. But I made it up the ladder and onto the platform, and the air boat operator, who was used to pulling me up by now, said his usual greeting and something else I didn’t understand—probably that I was later than usual tonight. But I didn’t hear him because I couldn’t stop thinking about how Taio’s throat had moved as though he’d wanted to say something but couldn’t. Was I just imagining that he’d wanted to say more because I so desperately wanted him back? He’d come after me. He’d left Saabin and that other woman behind. That must mean something...

Dusthead, I admonished myself. He’d probably gone straight back to them. He thought I was strange for sleeping on the lookout platform—everyone in Zleyval did, I supposed. That was the reason he’d come after me, to satisfy his curiosity. If I started to hope, I’d only be disappointed and hurt again. Taio was the enemy now. I had to remember that.

The air boat reached the summit, and a short sentry moved forward to greet it. I was so distracted, I didn’t recognize Leed at first. “Mara,” Leed said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked as soon as I stepped off the air boat. No one need tell me all was not well. Leed would not be up here if there was not an issue, and he wouldn’t have been looking for me unless he wanted my opinion on it. Without waiting for a response, I went to the edge of the lookout and peered down. I had to wait for my eyes to adjust. The air boat had no lights on it nor did the lookout, but I’d been in the harsh brightness of the city lights just minutes ago.

The mass of Hollows on the other side of the river was present as always. And, as was usual under cover of darkness, they were moving about and making hisses and guttural groans, some of which carried all the way up here. But as I watched, I began to see what must have concerned the sentries enough to call Leed. Mayhap I’d been too soon to dismiss them as incapable. “How long has this been going on?” I asked.

“I was summoned about an hour ago,” Leed said. “The sentries called me as soon as they noted the change.”

Two hours at most then. Not much progress for two hours but worrying nonetheless. A small group of the monsters had moved upstream to an area of the river that was slightly narrower than the section of river where the majority of the Hollows stumbled about. Some of the Hollows in that breakaway group were lying in the water while one Hollow attempted to walk on their backs. They were not even close to the middle of the river, and it would be too deep there for them to stay in place—assuming Hollows could not tread water; we’d all be doomed if they could—but they had come up with an idea for how to cross. How long until they thought of a better one?

“If you had told me about this a fortnight ago, I would not have believed you,” I said.

“I would not have believed me,” Leed admitted. “I’ve seen them coordinate before, but any success seemed accidental. This is no accident.”

“No, it’s deliberate,” I agreed. I looked at him. “Will you tell the...” I almost said king then remembered where I was. “Will you tell the First Gentleman and Lady?”

“Not yet,” Leed said. “There’s no immediate danger and nothing they can do. If they were not so far upstream, I’d have the warriors I’m training as archers attempt to shoot them, but the arrows can’t reach that far.”

I nodded. I was not particularly skilled at archery. In Earsleh we trained mostly in hand-to-hand combat. But archers were utilized at the Barrier, and so like every other citizen, I had been trained with bow and arrow. I was probably better than the Zulenii and could help if needed.

“Are you making any progress?” Leed asked.

I knew, though he was deliberately vague, he spoke of the cure. He had probably been called away before my message arrived, so I gave him a tentative smile. The cure was probably all he thought about. The cure was all I thought about—almost all, anyway. “I am, actually. Another day or two, and I should have it.”

Leed inhaled sharply, his expression breaking into an enormous smile. “That is good news.”

“It is.” But even when I deciphered the cure, we’d still need to create it and determine how to deploy it. It would be several more days, possibly weeks or months before we could use it against the horde threatening Zleyval. “Let’s hope they don’t stumble upon a better plan too soon.”

“This cold weather is to our advantage,” Leed said. “When it snows, they freeze until the temperature rises. Most of the snow is on the tops of the mountains, but sometimes we get some in the valley here. Even the city sees a few flakes every year. We need a few nights of freezing temperatures and some snow. That will stop them, at least temporarily.”

I looked up at the clear night sky. “Then we pray for snow,” I said.

* * *

I WAS BACK IN THE LIBRARY at first light. I’d slept very little. Leed and I had spent most of the night passing hot tea back and forth and watching the Hollows coordinating to cross the river fall into it. They would have been amusing if they weren’t so dangerous. But by morning the small breakaway group had made no progress, and Leed and I were able to sigh with relief as they went dormant under the sunrise.

Back at the palace library, I unlocked the copy of the scroll and carried it to the chair I liked best. After lighting a lamp, I reread what I’d translated previously, taking my time with the last two lines.

This Vasta begged to be allowed to attempt to cure him. She tried many potions and ointments and despaired of ever healing her husband.

Vasta was the healer whose husband had been scratched. A scratch from a Hollow almost always led to the red vein virus. We didn’t know why. What we had noted was that those infected via scratch took longer to exhibit symptoms and longer to succumb. They might last days before the worst symptoms showed themselves. One rumor we’d whispered about as children was of the existence of a person who had been scratched and not turned until after almost a sennight. If this scratch was as slow acting, the healer had time to concoct various cures before her husband would have to be killed because he was too much of a threat.

I dipped my pen in ink and began to translate the last short section before what I thought of as the segment with the list of ingredients and directions for making the cure.

While Vasta worked, the village was in turmoil. Those who had been bitten turned on their caregivers and attacked them. Many of the infected were killed, but others escaped and returned to harass their former friends and lovers. The villagers fashioned sharp sticks, and their skilled metallurgists crafted weapons with wicked points, as only a blow to the brain of the infected would force the creature to relent.

Relent was certainly one way to describe killing a Hollow.

In all this commotion, Vasta focused only on her work. She listened again to the tale of how the first woman, the one called Livah, had been infected and took inspiration from the story. She asked that the villagers hunt the sick wolf who had attacked the woman Livah and bring the dead creature to her. And, lo, at great risk to themselves, the villagers did just that, presenting the poor creature to her. The healer Vasta took the wolf’s body and mixed her new cure. With time growing short, she administered this cure to her husband.

And lo, the man was healed. His fever cooled. His swollen veins retreated. His hollow eyes came back to life. He was able to sit and walk, though he remembered nothing of his time of sickness. He did not recover fully, but he lost the taste for flesh and the urge to attack.

The healer Vasta made note of the ingredients for the cure and concocted enough to fill a cooking jar. This she delivered into the hands of His Majesty King Wollem IV. And that good ruler has ordained that the story and the cure be here withal detailed.

Thus follows a list of items gathered by Vasta.

I paused here because some of these words, even when translated, were unfamiliar to me. I decided to begin with those I knew, keeping the list in order, in case that mattered, but leaving a space for words unfamiliar to me.

Water

Salt

Oil of peppermint

Leaves of ___

Bark of the willow tree

___

Needles of pine

Two ingredient names eluded me. Mayhap I would ask Leed if the Earslehen words meant anything to him. He was decades older than I, and these words might have fallen out of use since the time of my birth.

The last section of the scroll was the recipe for the cure. It began with heating water and adding salt, peppermint oil, the leaves of the next ingredient, and willow bark. I couldn’t make it too much further without knowing the words from the list of ingredients.

By now the sun was low in the sky. The house staff had come to offer me refreshment, but I’d sent them away, not wanting to be disturbed. My head hurt, and my belly felt hollow. I stood, ignoring the protest of my limbs, and went to the door where I knew a worker would be waiting. “Leed,” I said to the worker. “Leed come.”

The woman nodded and rushed away. I went back to my work, locked it in the drawer, and made my way to the kitchen to eat before I fell over. Less than an hour later, Leed found me. “They said you asked for me,” he said as he strode into the kitchen. He sounded slightly breathless.

“Were you at the lookout?”

“No. All is quiet there as far as I know. I had hoped to go up soon—”

“I need your help with the translation,” I said. “I have it almost finished.”

Leed’s eyes widened. “This is excellent news, but I don’t know Royal Earslehen.”

“I’ve translated it into common Earslehen, but I still don’t recognize the words in the list of ingredients. I thought you might.”

Leed rocked back, seeming to consider. “Taio said when he tested you with the sample of Royal Earslehen we sent, you said the word was a common kitchen spice for some sort of recipe.”

I nodded and made for the exit, motioning him to follow me. “He pretended the parchment had been slipped under his door. I couldn’t figure out why someone would slip him a paper with salt and oil of peppermint written on it.”

“Then those are two of the ingredients in the cure?”

“Yes.”

“What are we to do with them?”

We entered the library, and I went to the shelf to remove the drawer and unlock it. “I haven’t finished that section, but we’re to heat the water and add the salt first.”

“How much?”

I made a face as I laid out the parchment with my translation. “That’s another issue. No measurements are given.”

Leed leaned over to look at the paper. “This is the translation?”

“Yes. I can’t be certain there are no errors, but—”

He held up a finger as he read, his lips moving silently. “This is the story I heard,” he said. “The healer was called Vasta. I remember that now.”

I let out the breath I hadn’t even been aware I was holding. Though I’d worked on this for days, I wasn’t confident in my work. Leed’s confirmation gave me conviction. Then Leed shattered it.

“This will be a problem,” he said.

“Show me,” I said, but I thought I already knew.

He shook his head. “These are the ingredients you are missing?” he asked, pointing to the blanks I’d left.

I nodded and lifted my copy of the original. “The first says leaves of”—I slid my finger along the words—“but I don’t know this word.”

“How does it sound?”

“I don’t know. Royal Earslehen is a written language. I’ve never heard it spoken.”

“How would you write it in common Earlsehen?”

I took up the pen and translated. “I think this word is salvo. The original is a bit smudged, so I might be off a letter. It might be salvia. I don’t know what either of those words means.”

“They’re not familiar to me. What’s this one?”

“Rosmarinus?”

“Salvia or salvo Rosmarinus?”

Leed scratched his head. “Leaves of Salvia rosmarinus...peppermint, willow bark, pine needles. What would we find in a garden that begins with an S or an R?”

“Seeds?”

“Radish, raspberry, rosemary—”

“Rosemary!” I grabbed Leed’s arm. “Does rosemary have leaves?”

“Yes, and I have seen healers use it, even the healers here in Zleyval. The Zulenii word for rosemary is rosmar.” Leed smiled and me, and I smiled back. For the first time since I’d arrived here, I felt true hope.

“What about this one?” I shuffled my papers until I found the one where I’d made attempts at translating the other ingredient. “The first word is saliva. The scroll is undamaged there, but I don’t think that can be correct. Then these words are canis lupus.”

Leed placed both hands on the table and lowered his head. “When I was young, my father used to talk about a dog he’d had before I was born. He sometimes walked into a room in our house and expected to find that dog lying in the doorway.”

“I’ve never seen a dog,” I said. “The Hollows killed all of them.”

Leed nodded. “Sometimes people would call dogs canines.” He pointed to the paper. “Canis could be canine.”

“What’s lupus?”

“I’ve never seen a dog, either,” Leed said. “But once when I was traveling to the Barrier, we spotted what looked like dogs far in the distance. My patrol leader said they were wolves.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“It makes sense, Lady Mara. A wolf bite caused the virus. The saliva is part of the antidote.”

I sank onto my stool and put my head in my hands. All of this work had been for nothing.

“Finish the translation,” Leed said. “I’ll gather the First House.”

I looked out the window. “It must be the middle of the night, Leed.”

“That doesn’t matter. They will want to know.”

I wanted to call after him and say, Let them sleep. Tomorrow is soon enough to find out we’re all doomed.