The Shining Ones

‘Sorry, Vanion. It helps a little if I think of it that way. Bhelliom definitely has its own personality.’ He closed the lid and felt the latch click.

‘Ah – Flute?’ Khalad said a bit tentatively.

‘Yes?’

‘Is it the box that keeps Bhelliom hidden? Or is it the fact that the box is made out of gold?’

‘It’s the gold, Khalad. There’s something about gold that muffles Bhelliom and hides it.’

‘And it works on Queen Ehlana’s ring as well?’

She nodded. ‘I can’t hear or feel a thing.’ She stretched her open palm out toward the box Sparhawk was holding. ‘Nothing at all,’ she confirmed. ‘I can feel his ring, though.’

‘Put a golden glove on him,’ Kalten shrugged.

‘How much money did you bring along, Sir Kalten?’ Khalad asked. ‘Gold’s expensive, you know.’ He squinted at Sparhawk’s ring. ‘I don’t have to cover his whole hand,’ he said, ‘just the ring itself.’

‘I’ll have to be able to get at it in a hurry, Khalad,’ Sparhawk cautioned.

‘Let me work on it. Does anyone have a gold florin? That would be about the right size.’

They all opened their purses.

Kalten looked around hopefully, then sighed. He reached into his purse. ‘You owe me a gold florin, Sparhawk,’ he said, handing the coin to Khalad.

‘I’m in your debt, Kalten,’ Sparhawk smiled.

‘You certainly are – one gold florin’s worth. Shall we move on? It’s starting to get chilly out here.’

The wind had come up, gusty at first, but blowing steadily stronger. They followed the trail on down the slope until they were riding along the upper edge of a long, sandy beach with the wind screaming and tearing at them and the salt spray stinging their faces.

‘This is more than just a gale!’ Ulath shouted over the screaming wind. ‘I think we’ve got a hurricane brewing!’

‘Isn’t it too early for hurricanes?’ Kalten shouted.

‘It is in Eosia,’ Ulath shouted back.

The shrieking of the wind grew louder, and they rode with their cloaks pulled tightly about them.

‘We’d better get in out of this,’ Vanion yelled. ‘There’s a ruined farmstead just ahead.’ He squinted through the driving spray. ‘It’s got stone walls, so it should give us some kind of shelter from the wind.’

They pushed their horses into a gallop and reached the ruin in a few minutes. The moldering buildings were half buried in weeds, and the windows of the unroofed structures seemed to stare down from the walls like blind eyes. The house had completely tumbled in, so Sparhawk and the others dismounted in the yard and led their nervous horses into what had evidently been the barn. The floor was littered with the rotting remains of the roof, and there were bird-droppings in the corners.

‘How long does a hurricane usually last?’ Vanion asked.

‘A day or two,’ Ulath shrugged. Three at the most.’

‘I wouldn’t make any wagers on this one,’ Bevier said. ‘It came up just a little too quickly to suit me, and it’s forced us to take shelter. We’re pinned down in these ruins, you know.’

‘He’s right,’ Berit agreed. ‘Don’t we almost have to assume that somebody’s raised this storm to delay us?’

Kalten gave him a flat, unfriendly stare, a fair indication that he had not yet shaken off his suspicions about the young man and Queen Ehlana’s maid.

‘I don’t think it’s going to be much of a problem,’ Ulath said. ‘As soon as we get back on board that ship, we’ll be able to outrun the hurricane.’

Aphrael was shaking her head.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked her.

‘That ship wasn’t built to ride out a hurricane. As a matter of fact, I’ve already sent it back to where it came from.’

‘Without even telling us?’ Vanion objected.

‘My decision, Vanion. The ship’s no good to us in this kind of weather, so there was no point in putting the crew in danger.’

‘It seemed well made to me,’ Ulath objected. ‘The builders must have taken high winds into account when they designed her.’

She shook her head. ‘The wind doesn’t blow where that ship came from.’

‘There are winds everywhere, Flute,’ he pointed out. ‘There’s no place on this entire world where the wind doesn’t blow now and …’ He broke off and stared at her. ‘Where does that ship come from?’

‘That’s really none of your business, Sir Knight. I can bring it back after the storm passes.’

‘If it passes,’ Kalten added. ‘And I wouldn’t be at all surprised that when it does, this broken-down barn’s going to be surrounded by several thousand armed fanatics.’

They all looked at each other.

‘I think maybe we’d better move on, storm or no storm,’ Vanion said. He looked at Flute. ‘Can you still … ? I mean, will this wind interfere?’

‘It won’t make it any easier,’ she admitted glumly.

‘I don’t want you to hurt yourself,’ Sephrenia told her.

Flute waved her hand as if brushing it aside. ‘Don’t worry about me, Sephrenia.’

‘Don’t try to hide things from me, young lady.’ Sephrenia’s tone was stern. ‘I know exactly what all this wind’s going to do to you.’

‘And I know exactly what trying to carry it around will do to our mysterious friend out there. Trying to chase us with a hurricane on his back will exhaust him far more than carrying ten people on horseback will exhaust me – and I’m faster than he is. They don’t call me the nimble Goddess for nothing, you know. I can run even faster than Talen, if I have to. Where would you like to go, Lord Vanion?’

The Preceptor looked around at them. ‘Back to Jorsan?’

‘It’s probably as good as any place in a hurricane,’ Kalten said. ‘At least the beds are dry.’

‘And the beer is wet?’ Ulath smiled.

‘That did sort of enter into my thinking,’ Kalten admitted.

The wind shrieked around the corners of the building, but the inn was a sturdy stone structure, and the windows had stout shutters. Sparhawk chafed at the delay, but there was no help for it.