Sky of Wind by Emily Deady

Chapter 21

Sol followed Jules, Ezra, and Meena into the extravagant home they would be staying in.

The climate of Falqri reminded him of Istroya, and he felt at home in the dry heat and amongst the round, stubby plants.

He did not feel at home in the opulent sandstone manse. It reminded him of the houses which the taskers inhabited on Istroya.

Interestingly, he did not remember feeling so disgusted at the palace of Iseldis. Perhaps he had been too focused to notice his surroundings, or perhaps the large castle felt less opulent because it was less of a home and more of a small city. He did remember feeling overwhelmed at the sheer number of people who lived and worked in the palace. It had a function that served many people.

This particular large home was eerily empty. Sol felt that its only purpose was to impress.

Sol pushed aside the tired frustration he was feeling and brought his mind back to his present mission. All he wanted was a room to himself, a long nap, and the freedom of darkness so he could explore the city on his own.

He followed Jules through the halls of the home, keeping note of every turn they took and how far they were from the main entrance. Occasionally, he saw windows in the outer walls, which would be surprisingly easy to escape through. The house itself had been built several hands lengths into the ground, so when he looked out the window, the outside ground was nearly as tall as the base of the window.

“Would you care to join us for a game of quugot?” Jules asked, stopping at the open door to an inner courtyard.

Sol began to shake his head.

“Surely they are tired from their travels, dear,” Ezra said, reading his mind. “You must let them go rest. We can play all the quugot your heart desires during the rest of their stay.”

Jules turned back to them with a rogue smile. “Of course, of course. They surely want to go to their rooms.”

Sol smiled his thanks, relieved. He was exhausted.

But Meena caught his attention, blinking twice.

She wanted to find out more information, even though she, too, was likely exhausted.

Impressed at her dedication, and not wanting to be outdone by her, Sol gave her a slight nod.

She smiled warmly at him before turning back to their hosts. “We would love to join you for a game of quugot. You will have to teach me the rules as I’ve never played it.”

Sol nodded his agreement, thankful Meena had spoken for them. He raised his eyebrows at her, hoping to communicate that she had done well.

Meena blinked back at him in response.

“Magnificent!” Jules threw his arms out wide. “Ezra and I make a formidable team, but we will take it easy on you just this once.”

Meena slipped her hand into Sol’s arm as they followed their hosts through the beautiful house. “That sounds intimidating, but I never back down from a challenge,” Meena said. “Is it a fun game?”

“It’s deceptively simple,” Jules responded. “But don’t let that fool you. It’s very fun.”

Sol did not care about the game, but he did care about gaining information. If they asked the right questions, they could confirm that an important shipment had recently arrived from Chendas. He could also learn about the rotation of the soldiers and where he was most likely to find the magic receptacle.

If he had calculated correctly, the chaos mages should not currently have any Majis prisoners. Insofar as they had been able to track on Istroya, the mages only took two at a time to steal magic from. They chose those with a good propensity for magic, or those who would not be missed for the labor. Sol had a powerful affiliation with magic, and he guessed from Neven’s age that he was chosen for the latter reason.

It had been over fifteen years since the taskers had chosen his father. If they had come for another pair of chosen, it meant the previous pair were dead.

Sol forgot about his exhaustion, reinvigorated as he was by the justice he sought.

“It’s a simple game, really,” Jules explained as they stopped in the inner courtyard. He handed a pouch to Sol. “You merely toss this pouch into that casing.” He pointed to a small ring of stones a good distance away.

Sol accepted the pouch, quickly noting the way it was tied closed with multiple loops and knots. The weight of it settled between his fingers, shifting in a pleasant way. “Sand?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jules responded. “Gives it a good weight to work with. Try it.”

Sol looked at the circle he was supposed to hit. Swinging back his arm, he felt the weight of the pouch and gave it a solid push through the air.

The sand-filled bag arched through the air and landed with a satisfying thud on the ring of stones.

Meena clapped at his side. “Let me try it,” she said, holding out her hand to Jules.

Jules gave Meena another pouch. “That was a good shot, your highness,” Jules said to Sol. “It would only give your team a single point. If you land it in the center of the circle, you get three points. First team to twenty points wins.”

Meena threw the pouch into the air. It landed with a much softer thump in the sandy spot at the center of the circle of stones.

“Ha!” she yelled. “I like this game.”

Jules laughed out loud at her obvious pleasure. “The two of you start over there, so we stand on opposite sides.”

Meena leapt forward, pulling Sol along with her. “We have to win,” she whispered, cozying up to his shoulder.

“Isn’t it just a game?” Sol responded, glancing back at their competition. “I thought we were here to . . .” He waited for her to look up at him before he blinked twice.

Jules and Ezra were laughing about something together, and did not seem to notice the quiet conversation happening across the sandy courtyard. Sol took note of their infatuation with each other. It could be a useful tool for distracting them in the future.

“We can’t just lose,” Meena hissed. “We need them to respect us.”

Sol looked back over his shoulder. Jules was kissing Ezra’s fingertips, as though they were the only two people in the world. Earning their respect was not his highest priority.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Sol replied, picking up the sand pouches from the ground at their feet. “We don’t need their respect, just their information.” He said the last part so quietly, he could not even hear himself.

“It’s a good thing I’m a fair shot, then,” Meena muttered to herself. “I’ll have to win this on my own.”

Sol raised his eyebrows. “I never said I intended to miss.”

“Good.” Meena put a dazzling smile on her face, but it wasn’t for him. As they had reached the mark, she spun back toward their hosts, her skirt energetically wrapping around his legs as well as her own.

Jules and Ezra earned five points on their first round. Meena growled in despair each time their opponents landed a shot.

“Are shipments from the other kingdoms difficult to receive in such a remote outpost?” Sol asked, trying to sound casual.

“He thinks this is remote,” Jules said to Ezra. “We should take him further south. The prince has likely never seen an actual village before.”

Sol rolled his eyes. He was no prince. And he was from a small island. It was his turn, so lined up to take his shot.

“We got this, Sol,” Meena whispered very intensely at his side.

He let the sandbag fly through the air.

“Have you received any shipments from Chendas, recently?” Meena called across the playing space. “I’ve been waiting for months to see the latest dresses.” She trailed off in a whoop of joy as Sol landed a three-point shot.

“A caravan from Chendas arrived three weeks ago,” Jules replied. “The new silks are stunning. Wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

Ezra smiled at her husband, stepping forward to take her shot. “Anything you purchase for me is stunning.”

Sol stored that information in his head. He did not doubt Robin’s information, but it was nice to know that the caravan had arrived from Chendas within the likely timeframe.

“Well asked,” he whispered as Meena prepared for her next throw.

Her shot landed to the side of the target.

“You distracted me,” she hissed as she stepped back. “But thank you.”

Sol stepped to the mark for his turn.

“Please get three points,” Meena said loudly.

Jules laughed, but his laugh turned into applause when Sol landed a three-point shot.

“Yes!” Meena shouted with glee. “Are we free to explore the city tomorrow?” she asked, weaving her excitement into the question.

“Your word is our command,” Jules responded, missing his next shot.

“Except for three evenings from now,” Ezra said. “The fort always celebrates the Goldenreign Feast and we would be honored for you to attend.”

“It would be our honor to attend,” Meena graciously responded.

Sol also took that piece of information into his plan. A night of celebration and a disturbance in the routine would be the perfect time to empty the magic receptacle—if he could locate it by then, of course.

Sol inhaled. His mind relaxed, turning over the new information as his body enjoyed the movement of the game.

Meena shouted in glee every time either of them scored a point, and Sol found himself enjoying the sound of her excitement.

“We only need one more perfect throw,” she said encouragingly as he took his place again. “You can do this.”

Sol paused, looking to his side at the vibrant cheering him on. Whether they won or lost, tonight was a victory. They had made it this far, and he would do everything in his power to bring down the reign of the chaos magic users. “Let’s win,” he said to Meena.

“Yes!” she yelled. “That’s the spirit!”

Jules laughed at her exuberance, and even Ezra cracked a small smile.

Sol refocused on his immediate goal, taking careful aim and tossing the sand pouch confidently into the air.

He remained hunched in position, waiting to see where his shot would land.

It was a perfect three-pointer.

Sol stood, throwing his fists up in front of him. Victory felt wonderful.

“That’s twenty-one!” Meena called out. “We win! I knew you were the best partner!”

Sol thought his chest might explode with the feeling of joy that coursed through him.

Meena slipped her hand in his arm and tugged him toward their opponents. “I hope you were not going easy on us, because we are the best team to ever play quugot!”

“I will demand a rematch,” Jules said. “But we did not go easy on you.” He slipped his arm around Ezra’s waist. “We could never be so devious.”

Sol had a feeling he was merely placating Meena, but he couldn’t blame the man. Watching Meena’s happiness made him happier than he’d ever felt on his own. “Thank you for the game, and for having us in your home,” Sol said. “I think it is time we find our rooms for the night.”

“Of course,” Jules responded. With his arm still around his wife, he led them back down the hall.

“The servants should have had time to unload the chests into your room,” Ezra explained.

She only indicated a single room, which made Sol slightly nervous. Rich, married people did not share the same room. Why else would they have such large houses?

Jules and Ezra stopped at an open door in a quiet section of the house.

With a quick glance, Sol confirmed that it was a single room. With a single bed.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Jules said to his wife. “I wish we were newly wed again.” Tilting his head, he kissed his tall wife.

Meena squeezed Sol’s arm, and he felt his face growing hot. Not in embarrassment, of course, but the kiss reminded him of the moment he shared with Meena. The moment that he had enjoyed far more than he was willing to admit. The moment that had distracted him from his purpose for too many days already.

“How long have you been married?” Meena asked, innocently.

“Three months,” Jules responded. “It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago.”

Sol snorted.

Meena pinched his arm again, and he quickly turned it into a cough.

“Thank you again, for having us in your home,” Meena said, covering up his awkwardness. “I hope to win many more games of quugot against you.” Her sweet voice held a confident challenge.

Sol tugged at the collar of his shirt. She was a distraction. He worshipped his father, then lost him. He would never make that mistake again.

Even if he miraculously succeeded in his mission—and remained alive—there was far too much left to do to spend his time wooing a princess. Even if that princess could get him to enjoy something as simple as a tossing game.

“I’ll send you my maid, Princess,” Ezra said.

“Tomorrow, my love, tomorrow.” Jules winked at Meena. “She has no need of Laila tonight.

“Goodnight,” Sol said firmly. He needed to end this conversation. And he needed to get a certain princess out of his head so he could make plans for the next day.

“You like them,” Sol whispered when they were finally alone in their room, dropping her hand from his arm. He didn’t dare speak too loudly.

Meena paused for an awkward moment. “I was play-acting,” she whispered. The look she gave him was filled with confusion. “Ensuring they like us.”

“Your laugh was too real for that to be playacting,” Sol responded. He knew his words were petty, but he had to put distance between them.

The princess jumped back, as though she had been slapped. “And you know me well enough to know my laugh?” she said, clearly hurt. “I suppose you were play-acting out there as well? Meena mine?” She spat his words from the beach back at him.

He brushed past her, walking the perimeter of the room.

This was good. This was back to a relationship he could control.

The relief and joy he’d experienced from winning the game was gone. His muscles were back to their usual tense state.

He stopped, checking the window and curtains to ensure they were locked and closed. That the room was safe. “Actually, I was hoping they would be a bit more like the keeper you described on the shore earlier. A big nosy man who kept his watchful eye on us at all times. Then we would not have to worry so much about faking this relationship behind closed doors.”

Meena gasped at the harshness of his words.

He went to the door to ensure it was also locked.

She turned her back to him and sat on the corner of the bed, reaching down to remove her shoes.

Sol waited for her equally harsh response, but she said nothing. After several moments, Sol felt a small pit form in his stomach. She’d never been voluntarily quiet for this long before. Somehow, he knew she would not speak to him again for the remainder of the night.

That would be good. Preferable even. But his stomach still felt twisted and empty.

He kept his back to her while she readied herself for bed. A wadded up blanket landed at his feet and a pillow followed soon after.

He spread the blanket next to the door. He waited until she blew out the candle before he allowed himself to finally lie down and relax.

As he laid his head down on the pillow, it felt as though his head fell straight through the floor. His body was firm on the ground, but his mind kept falling in a loop.

He closed his eyes, but the sensation grew worse. It reminded him of being back on the ship, gently rising and falling with each wave. That was likely the cause of it, just readjusting to sleeping on solid ground again.

He did not recall experiencing this after he sailed from Istroya, but he had felt many more unpleasant things on that trip. Perhaps they’d overpowered the odd sensation in his mind.

He wondered if Meena was experiencing the same thing. He hoped it was not upsetting her.

He could check in with her and ask. When he tried to open his mouth, his tongue seemed to swell, stuck in place. She was likely already asleep and didn’t want to be disturbed.