Taking Flight

Chapter Eleven

“That’s all you’ve got?” the innkeeper demanded.

Kelder nodded silently. Behind him, Irith muttered, “Oh, gods, how utterly embarrassing! Kelder, I can’t believe you’re doing this — and in the Flying Carpet!”

Asha had the good grace to keep her mouth shut, for which Kelder was grateful.

The innkeeper glared at the coins as if they were a direct personal affront.

“Oh, come on,” Kelder said. “It’s only three bits short, and I swear, it’s all we’ve got.”

The proprietor let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Oh, all right,” he said, “but I really shouldn’t. Now, go on and get out of here, and don’t you ever tell a soul I was so soft-hearted and stupid!”

“Thank you,” Kelder said, with a bow. “May all the gods bless and guard you, sir!” Greatly relieved, he turned and hurried for the door, before the man could change his mind.

When they were safely out of the inn and on the streets of Sinodita, Kelder turned left. Irith corrected him, grabbing his arm and turning him around.

“That’s west,” she said. “We’re going east.”

Kelder stood where he was and shook his head. “No, we aren’t,” he said. “Or at least, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Asha asked, looking up at him.

“No,” he said. “I’m going home, to Shulara.”

Irith put her hands on her hips and snorted. A lock of hair fell across her face; she blew it out of her way, and glared at Kelder.

“What about me?” Asha asked timidly. “What about Abden?”

Kelder looked down at her. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’m tired, and I don’t have any more money, and I can’t see what we can do, anyway. If we caught up to the caravan, what would we do? Why would they help us? And how long will it be before we catch them, anyway? Where will we eat and sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Asha whispered.

“Neither do I,” Kelder said. “And that’s why I’m going home. I can sleep on the grass by the roadside, and pick a little food from the fields, and that should last me long enough to get home to my family — if I turn back now.” That probably meant giving up on Zindre’s prophecy, but just now, tired even after a night’s sleep and humiliated by his experience with the innkeeper, Kelder didn’t care.

And maybe he could try again in a few years, become the champion of the lost and forlorn then. It was much easier to be a hero when one had money.

“What about me, though?” Asha asked. “I can’t go back to my family!”

Kelder frowned. “Don’t you have any relatives except your father?” he asked.

Asha shook her head; a tear ran down one cheek.

“Kelder of Shulara,” Irith said, with her hands on her hips, “if you think for one minute that I’m going to let you break your promise to that poor child, then you’re a complete blithering idiot! We, both of us, are going on to Shan with her, and we’re going to find her brother’s head and bring it back and build a proper pyre! And after that we’ll find some place for her where she’ll be safe. And then, if you want, you can creep back home to your stupid little farm in Shulara and let your mommy and daddy take care of you — but not until then! Do you hear me?”

Kelder blinked. “Irith,” he said tiredly, “I don’t. Have. Any. More. Money.”

“Well, so what?”

“So I can’t go anywhere.”

“Kelder, you’re being stupid! What do you need money for? We aren’t just any bunch of travelers, you know; you aren’t in this alone. You’re with Irith the Flyer!”

Kelder looked at her for a long moment, then asked, “So what?”

“So, you silly ass,” Irith replied, “I’m a shapeshifter and a famous magician! Everybody on the Great Highway knows me. I can get money any time I want!”

“You can?”

“Of course I can! Do you think I’ve lived all these years off people like you?”

Kelder had not thought at all about how Irith supported herself; the question had simply never occurred to him. Now that it had been pointed out, he felt rather foolish.

“Oh,” he said.

He thought for a moment.

Asha was staring up at Irith now, and the expression on her face and in her eyes looked suspiciously like adoration. Kelder felt a twinge of envy; wasn’t it he who was supposed to be the honored champion?

“I must be just as stupid as you said,” he said. “I don’t see how you can get money any time you want.”

Irith let out an exasperated hiss and turned away in disgust, then turned back to say, “I work for it, silly! I can do things that nobody else can!”

“But how do you find work?” Kelder asked.

She shrugged. “I ask around. And if there isn’t anything handy, I borrow money — people know I’m good for it.”

“Oh,” Kelder said again. He hesitated, and then asked, “Do you have any money now?”

“Of course I do!”

“You do?” Kelder’s weariness and confusion began to give way to annoyance. “You do?”

“Yes, of course!” Irith repeated.

“Then...” Kelder stopped, calmed himself, and tried again. “Then why...” Again, he paused, but finally the entire thing burst out, unrestrained.

“Then why in all the depths of Hell didn’t you tell me that before I embarrassed us all in front of the innkeeper?” he shouted.

“Because you didn’t ask!” Irith shouted back. “I didn’t know you were out of money! You didn’t tell me! The first I knew of it was when you counted out your coins for Bardec!”

“Well, why didn’t you say something then?” Kelder yelled back.

“Because I was too embarrassed, that’s why!”

Kelder started to say something in reply, but no words came; his breath came out in a rush. He took another breath, but it, too, came out as wordless noise.

“Are you really going back to Shulara?” Asha asked.

Kelder looked down at her, and his anger dissipated.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“It’s only two days from here to Shan,” Irith said. “At most; we could make it in less if we pushed.”

Kelder looked at her, remembering the long walk from Shulara, and then looked down at Asha again.

“No,” he said, “no, I guess I’m not going back to Shulara. Not yet, anyway.” He turned back to Irith. “Two days?”

“Less, really,” she said. “It’s three and a half leagues to the Castle of Dhwerra, which is right on the edge of the desert — after that we’re out of the Small Kingdoms entirely. There’s nothing but the Great Eastern Desert from there to Shan — it’s about another three and a half leagues. Seven in all. Most people make it two days because of the heat.”

“What heat?” Kelder asked.

“The heat of the desert, of course! But it isn’t bad this time of year, really.”

“Seven leagues,” Kelder said, considering.

Irith nodded. “I could fly it in a couple of hours,” she said.

“And we’ve come how far since we met?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe fifteen leagues?”

Kelder thought for a moment longer, then asked, “Do you really think we can do anything for Asha?”

Irith pursed her lips. “Well,” she said, “I don’t know about anything really, you know, long-term, or anything, but it shouldn’t be all that hard to get her brother’s head back and build him a pyre.”

Kelder mulled this over, and Irith added, “Besides, don’t you want to see Shan on the Desert? I mean, it’s a really interesting place. The market — they call it the Bazaar — is wonderful. They specialize in sorcery, or at least they used to.”

That did sound interesting — one of the great cities he had been promised.

Really, the prophecy was still holding up just fine. His bride, the cause he was to champion, a great city to be seen — it was all coming together, wasn’t it?

He couldn’t just give it all up and go back to being a boring old farmer, with no special destiny.

“All right,” he said, “let’s get going. We’ll all walk at first, and if you get too tired, Asha, we can stop, and maybe Irith can turn into a horse again...”

Irith glared at him.

Kelder glared back.

Asha ignored them both and started walking, and a moment later they followed.