Adrina shivered uncontrollably, and the more she shivered, the more she cried. She cried because she felt so desperately alone and because she felt utterly responsible for all that had happened. She, after all, had been the one who longed for change, and change had come in the form of a dark storm that threatened to sweep away everything she cared for and everything her family had worked so hard to maintain over these many past years.
As she looked on, the carriage master turned onto the main thoroughfare of the East–West Road and for a fleeting moment as the carriage mounted a small hill, she caught a last glimpse of the West Deep off in the distance. The waters, deep blue and ever tranquil, seemed to be calling out to her, “Don’t leave. Stay.”
She did long to stay but she couldn’t have made and kept her promise to Rudden Klaiveson even if she had wanted. Her heart and thoughts were miles away, lost in secret thoughts of the elves Seth and Galan. And though Rudden and his family had opened their hearts to her, she could not open her heart to them. Klaive was not Imtal, and it was not, nor would it ever be, her home. She was confident of this as she was of no other thing.
Still, the past two weeks in Klaive hadn’t been all bad, and she had Valam to thank for urging her to change her mind and temporarily postpone her return to Imtal. Just as the baron, baroness and their son had been, the people of Klaive had been kind to her. They came to the streets to greet her and Rudden whenever they left Klaive Keep. Gentlemen would remove their hats and bow. Ladies in the flowing dress of the day would offer flowers and children would chase after them laughing through the streets.
Adrina smiled, and wiped tears from her eyes. She leaned her head out the window, turning to look back at Klaive, half expecting to see Rudden chasing the carriage and her entourage. But Rudden was nowhere to be seen along the long dusty road, and it was just as well for Adrina had broken his heart, though it had not been her intent.
She switched to the carriage seat opposite her and removed the cover from the painting the Baron had commissioned of her and Rudden. In the picture, Rudden had a broad smile and he held her hand. She remembered the warmth of his hands in hers and smiled. It had taken several days for the painter to complete his work and many long, quiet hours of standing and holding hands.
Her leaving Klaive without allowing the Baron to publicly announce the betrothal had been a betrayal of the unspoken promise her presence spoke of. She disgraced Rudden’s family to be sure, but the thing she couldn’t forget or forgive herself for was the hurt she caused Rudden. She could see the anguish and pain in his eyes clearly, even now, and unexpectedly, her heart and eyes mirrored that anguish and that pain, and it was the source of the emptiness she felt.
In her mind’s eye, she saw her mother, Queen Alexandria, nodding, giving silent approval to the idea that swept in from the corners of her mind. She laughed, and the laughter was almost healing. She moved the curtains aside from the coachman’s window, speaking quietly to the waiting attendant.
The coached turned. The riders in her entourage followed. She smiled.
“Ahoy, the Mouth of the World!” screamed the lookout.
The call was quickly relayed throughout the whole of the Scarlet Hawk, followed by a call of “Down the main sails! Oarsmen to the ready!” from the ship’s captain.
Vilmos avoided the tangle of sailors amidships and raced to the bow. He and Xith had left the seaside town of Eragol the previous day and the Mouth of the World, a natural river cave that cut under the Rift Range near Jrenn, was their destination.
He swallowed a heart-sized lump in his throat when ahead in the distance he saw only ice-capped mountains on both sides of the river. As he looked on, a small dark space within the gray stone of the mountain seemed to grow and grow until the darkness was a thing that seemed would swallow the whole of the ship, and indeed it did, just as the captain called out, “Lanterns, fore and aft!”
Lanterns soon cast a dull glow into the darkness. No light reflected back to say that the rocks were close around them—or to say that anything was close around them for that matter. Everything seemed dead calm and just as the ship seemed to stand still in space and time, Vilmos heard the low thumping of the pacekeeper’s drum. The oarsmen struck their oars. The Scarlet Hawk lurched forward. Soon the rowing became a smooth seesaw that hinted of movement and progress through the darkness.
“Vilmos, come away from the bow!” yelled Xith. “You don’t want to be standing there.”
Vilmos gripped the staff Xith had given him in Quashan’. “Is it always this dark here?”