Beneath the Starlit Sea, page 7
I'm not drunk anymore, and the memory of kissing Garit is more prominent than ever, throbbing in my heart as I lay back on the bed. The sunlight has faded from shining directly through the window, and I roll off the mattress with the bear fur wrapped around my shoulders. There's some kindling left, but I don't bother to light a flame in my palm because there's a vile feeling in my throat that rises and rises until I get sick in a cleaning bucket near the entryway. The whole room smells like a combination of rotten apples, cinnamon, and damp, the pleasant undertone of Garit's scent overrun by mead and the cold. It’s lonely here without him, and so I rise and force myself to ready for the day in order to fill the hole that’s been left in my heart from his departure.
six
It’s mid-morning when I tiptoe down to Garit's chambers in the western wing. My head is pounding, the rhythm settling deep in the back of my neck, blurring my sight around the edges like I’m still intoxicated by either the mead or Garit himself. I have nothing to solve the pain in my skull other than a couple drops of rosemary oil, so I add it to the apothecary’s list I started in my head for collecting in Moningrad.
The sound of my worn riding boots on the stone floor echoes in my brain, giving me a reason for tiptoeing. I desperately want to hide in bed for the rest of the day, but with pressure from King Whys to sort out what’s going on before he throws me in ore or finds a way to murder me, we can't afford a delay.
As I walk, I can't help but wonder what seeing Garit will do to me. If I'll feel the same way I felt early this morning while still under the influence of drink. Will Garit want to act as if nothing has happened between the two of us, or will he want more? Those and so many other questions exist in my head and I don’t know how to answer them—too many matters for how poorly I am feeling this morning.
I rap my knuckles against the chamber door twice, then wait, my heart in my throat as the questions continue to roll around inside of my throbbing head. I adjust my vest and satchel as I stand in the corridor, listening to the sound of footsteps as Garit approaches and opens the entryway door. His hair is loose around his shoulders save for a braid keeping it from his face, the reddish-blonde bright with a fresh wash. I want to reach out and bury my fingers in it, my thoughts of him already tainted by our two kisses under the influence of mead.
Garit clears his throat. "How are you feeling, Illyse? Did you get any rest?"
Nodding, I reply, "I did, thank you. Did you talk to the king?"
"I did. He's looking into the history of the ores he has in the cellars. I presume you're ready to head to the city?"
The formality of our conversation is painful. I take a step into his chambers toward him, my glance flickering around us to make sure nobody is around to overhear. "Garit, I—about the eve. And this morning. I—"
Garit holds up his hand to stop me from going on, something I often do when my mouth works faster than my head. His voice isn’t more than a whisper as he looks both ways down the wing as well. "I don't regret it, Illyse. If that's what you're wondering."
"It is."
He keeps his voice low. "Then, I don't."
"Can't we please talk—"
Garit interrupts me gently. "Not here. On our ride to town, where the woods are quiet. I have a sneaking suspicion that Orlea or the chamberlain are just waiting behind some column or corner. Can you imagine what they would tell Whys if they’d have seen me leaving your room at sunrise, drunk?"
I suddenly and fully comprehend the danger we put ourselves in, and a shiver runs up my spine. "Should we get the horses, then? Maybe take Thierry for a run?"
"That sounds perfect."
The morning late, we walk to the stables in silence after letting Thierry out from the yard. I fetch Hadli while Garit readies his chestnut stallion, Cassian. The two horses touch noses as we tie them to the branches of one of the courtyard trees, brushing off the dust from their coats before saddling and bridling them. Thierry wriggles his way around the horses' hooves, scratching his back on the cobblestones while he plays with the dead leaves that skitter around in the breeze. The fox is happy, and I'm pleased to see it even after forgetting to bring him breakfast because I was more incapacitated than not.
As we mount our horses, Hadli nickers to one of her pony friends in the stable. I let Garit take the lead out of Castle Rose and over the bridge. We walk at a leisurely pace to warm the horses, soon picking up to a trot that quickly turns into a canter. Hadli tosses her head and raises her heels as she stretches to catch up with Cassian, the stallion snorting as we ride side by side. Garit smiles as we race along the trail toward Moningrad with the wind in our hair and an autumn chill across our faces. We've ridden together many times, but this morning seems different. This morning is different, I suppose, because now we have a secret.
As we head into the tree line, Garit slows Cassian to a walk, and I pull up Hadli next to him while Thierry gallops behind us in the dust.
"Well," Garit starts, catching his breath from the cool wind. "This is the place to speak."
For a moment, I don't know what to say. There are too many phrases to describe what’s going on in my head and my heart, and they all mix together. The words come flooding from my mouth while I toy with Hadli's loose reins. I can't look at Garit as I talk because I'm having too many feelings. Emotionally charged sparks flit from my fingers. I brush them off on the saddle. Some people flush a deep crimson when they're embarrassed or worried. Unfortunately for me, as a sorceress, I do the same—and sometimes more.
“Illyse?” His tone is soft and encouraging, waiting for me to sort out what to say.
More little sparks, more brushing them off on the saddle as we ride along.
"Garit,” I start, humming his name in my mouth. “I-I think last night was what I've been waiting for since before I was captured. I’ve never really known men like you. There were sorcerers at Aske, but they—I’m not sure. I've never felt the way I feel about you. I was worried it would go away after a night’s sleep, that you might not feel the same way, that it was fleeting and superficial. But it’s not leaving me. It’s growing like the weeds of the Plains. And I don't want to hide it, I truly don't."
A group of crows flies overhead, barely visible above the canopy of branches, as I look over at Garit. He's riding with his eyes forward, but I can tell he's thinking by his expression and the clenching of his jaw. My breath sits heavy in my lungs, cold from the winds, but I cannot let it out. Because if I do, I might not be able to breathe in again, depending on the words that Garit speaks.
But his words are beautiful.
"I'm so drawn to you, Illyse. It's the kind of feeling bards write songs about and minstrels create poems for. I'm neither a bard nor a minstrel, so I can't give you either of those things. But what I can give you is my word. That when all of this is over, if it's ever over, that the way we feel will be more than just behind closed doors in the dark over tankards of mead."
"What are you saying?" My face feels hot, and I can only presume there’s a crimson flush on my cheeks. I cast my gaze over his position on Cassian: relaxed, his hips moving with the horse’s steps.
"I'm saying that you give me reason.”
“Reason?”
There’s no hesitation in his response. “Reason to live, to wake up, to go on, to breathe.”
My heart smiles, a sensation that I feel from my toes all the way through to my face and my fingertips. I can’t look at Garit because I suddenly feel as if I need to avert my gaze, though I can sense his eyes watching me. Perhaps the sparks from my fingers and the trembling of my hands on Hadli’s reins give away all my feelings, and he’s using the opportunity to study me like any other doctor might. Or maybe he—
"Do you have feelings for me, Illyse?" Garit breaks through my hesitation in making my sentiments known, and I swap from looking down at Hadli’s black neck to looking over into Garit’s oceanic eyes. Do I have feelings for him? I thought I had feelings for a sorcerer at Aske once. But this isn’t Aske. And this isn’t what I thought these sorts of feelings used to be.
When I think of the way my emotions have changed, the way the kiss made me feel, it strikes me that his question is both valid and the truth. The single word ‘yes’ gets caught up in my throat, and Garit just smiles as he squeezes Cassian into a trot underneath the forest canopy of empty branches.
“You don’t need to use words. I think I already know the answer.”
Garit taps Cassian with his boots and the horse bolts into a gallop, kicking up mud from the path, and I urge Hadli to chase. Thierry, who made his way to us with little notice, springs into action at the sudden movement, bounding through the felled trees to the edge of the trail. My hair blusters behind me at Hadli's quick pace, the mare faster than the stallion by miles, Cassian’s chestnut hide dropping into the distance over the hill when I look back through my red waves with a laugh, the wind whipping past. As I lean down low to my horse’s neck, there’s freedom in my body—freedom that I rarely experience because of the iron band, because of my feelings, because of my past. I absorb every inch of it because I know it, too, will someday end.
I stop Hadli at the creek crossing that divides the property of Castle Rose from Moningrad, letting the mare sip at the cool, clear water as we wait for Thierry, Garit, and Cassian to catch up. Scratching at Hadli’s black withers and braiding bits of her mane under my fingers, I wonder if Garit let me ride ahead on purpose. Soon, her ears prick at the sound of a horse trotting up, and Garit comes into view with Thierry nipping at Cassian's heels, tongue hanging from his mouth in a dog-like smile.
“How does it feel?” Garit asks, flipping a braid over his shoulder while holding Cassian’s reins in his other hand. The stallion snorts out the road dust that’s collected in his nostrils, prancing next to Hadli, who stares at him with a patient eye.
“How does what feel?” I watch Cassian steady under Garit’s experienced hand.
“The wind in your hair when you ride. Having feelings that are illegal by punishment of death. Both, perhaps.”
It feels like standing alone in a field of wildflowers in the summer, the breeze tickling blades of grass against my ankles. But how do my thoughts about Garit make me feel? Like I’m in the same field with the same wildflowers, but I’m with that one person who makes life worth living. Who makes having an iron band around my wrist and an old coven mark on my arm unimportant.
“Together? They both feel like… breathing in that first breath after being underwater.”
Garit hums to himself, brushing a piece of Cassian’s mane over to the other side of the horse’s neck.
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“You make it sound like…” He hesitates, looking off into the distance where the trees on the horizon grow darker.
“Yes?”
“Those seem like the words of someone who is in love.”
My natural reaction is to balk at the suggestion, deny my sentiments, ignore the way I previously accepted how my heart feels. “Who says I’m in love? For someone who doesn’t often have much to say outside of sharing from medical texts and work-related conversation, you certainly are particularly eager to discuss matters of the heart.”
Garit laughs, the sound echoing through the emptiness of the fields. “You didn’t answer my question, Illyse.”
“You didn’t ask one.”
“How do you feel?”
I find myself absently unbraiding one of the plaits in Hadli’s mane as I stare off into the sunrise, unable to meet Garit’s gaze that’s raking over me, likely desperate for some kind of acknowledgement. I can’t give it because as soon as I say the words, they’ll be real. They’ll be in the world. They’ll be the thing that could get me killed in this kingdom.
But I say them, a grin toying at my lips that I try to hide. “I feel like I could stay at Castle Rose forever, if it meant being with you.”
There’s a pause then, a long one. The sound of the horses along the trail and the whispering of the grass serves as the only noise, and I worry that I’ve completely misread the night before, the mead, the kiss—everything.
But then, after hesitation, Garit breathes out a heavy sigh. “Illyse?”
I flick my glance toward him, meeting his eyes. They have small wrinkles at the corners where he’s smiling, and he holds my gaze long enough that when he replies, my heart skips a beat.
“I feel the same.”
We keep the horses at a walk the rest of the way to Moningrad, the sky blue and gray above us and the emerald green of the grass slowly fading into brown patches that tell of the winter to come. The flowers that usually line the roadway have died except for the hardiest species, and the weeds, of course. I keep my eyes out for anything I could use in my mixtures or spells, but there's not much to be found, so I'll have to buy many of my supplies dried at the market, which means I’ll require more than if they were fresh.
Once we cross through the gates to the city of Moningrad, Garit and I dismount and hitch Cassian and Hadli to a post that's fresh with hay. I call Thierry to my side, the fox panting from the journey, and he stays by my heels as we make our way to the general merchant while Garit heads to the bookseller's. We agree to meet back at the armory, though I've not much of a reason to head there other than to look at the crossbow from my dreams again. It's across from the pub, however, so maybe Garit has other plans, though the thought of ale nearly turns my stomach.
The bell on the merchant’s door jingles as we enter, a stout man of thirty-five or so behind the counter. I recognize him as one of the men who was fishing the other day when I went down to the water to do my research on the nixies—the one who called me witch. He's not usually the one who works here.
"Ah, hello again, witch. Looking for a place to cast your spells?"
I grit my teeth, trying to avoid saying anything inflammatory. "Candles, rosemary oil, crow's blood, and I'll take a look around at your wares, thank you."
"I didn't know witches did the same work as doctors."
"My colleague is a doctor for King Whys."
The stout man straightens at mention of the king.
"Is His Majesty finding any success in sorting out the murders?" The tone of his voice changes as he wraps up some candles in parchment from behind the counter, clearly where he feels safest interacting with a monster such as myself. "Mickael and I have resorted to fishing during the day when we'd normally be selling or crafting. He's down by the water now while I'm watching this place."
Mickael is the name I recognize, a taller man with a thick black beard. He doesn't seem to be bothered much with the fact that I'm a sorceress, so long as I pay him what he's owed.
"We're working on it. I think we're going to make some progress over the next few days. Hopefully folks can respect the curfew just a little longer." I fiddle with a bundle of winterberries; they're early coming into stock this year.
"I know I don't want to get dragged into the water by some man-eating creature. I'll be in my house where it's safe with my wife and my children."
"Probably for the best."
The man bundles up the rest of my purchases as I pass him my satchel to store them. Thierry sits quietly in the middle of the floor as I look around. I take the bundle of winterberries because they're good for cold-weather illnesses, but also for adding excess warmth to a flame. In addition to the things I already have on the counter, I purchase some elderflower soaps, dried cornflower and magnolias, a rod of fresh gooseberries for a snack for the road back and to help with head pains, and powdered ginger root. By the time I leave the provisioner’s shop, my bag is stuffed. The only thing I need that the provisioner doesn't carry are the ingredients to make a juniper poison. One of the books I read in Garit’s study while he was searching the Brignese book mentioned poison for use against otherworldly creatures. Since we have a name for what’s been attacking the men on the shoreline of the Kincajd, it seems only natural to try some of the toxin to see if it will be of any success. I'll have to go hunting for those materials myself before all the juniper berries die.
Sliding the satchel over my shoulder, I thank the man and call Thierry to my heels. The bell rings for a second time as I exit, and under his breath, I hear him call me a witch again. I guess he doesn't know I could burn his house down with a push of a flame from my palm, but lucky for him, I don't wish to be murdered for my temper.
As Thierry and I make our way down a back alley toward the armory, I pop a gooseberry in my mouth for sustenance, looking in the windows of the shops as we pass. There's a clothier on the corner next to the butcher with an ornate leather vest in the window, and I stop to admire it before imagining the price. Many of the pieces the markets display are for show of skill rather than actual purchase, the hope being that the king will be called to grace the shops with his presence.
Garit's standing in front of the weapons shop with a book in his hand, and a grin overcomes his face as the fox and I approach.
"I found a book on mythical creatures and the effects of their magic,” he notes in a low voice, so the crowd won’t overhear what we’re discussing. “I guess the author didn't realize that all the creatures in the book aren't legends after all. There's a whole section on nixies and mermaids. It suggests juniper poison and crow's blood."
I don't bother mentioning to him that I already knew that, because he looks so proud of himself that I can't take that away. Though I suppose, to be fair, what I knew was from a textbook that I only read once while trying to distract myself. It’s best that his newest book confirmed it.
"What's at the armory that we need? I’m sure King Whys will allow us access to the weapons hold at Castle Rose."
"Nothing," Garit says with a smile of a thousand candles, mischievousness like a flame in the corner of his eyes. "But the pub's across the street. I thought we could have a drink and listen to a bard for a while. You know, like people who enjoy each other’s company do."
