Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

M arieke pulled the shawl more tightly about her shoulders to ward off the chill as she slipped out of her room. The garment had been hanging on the back of a rocking chair next to the bed. Hopefully she was allowed to use it.

She'd been surprised when she woke and realized that dawn hadn't yet broken. She'd been so exhausted the night before that she'd half expected to sleep for two days. But after all, it had been early when she'd gone to bed. Apparently her body was sufficiently recovered by a solid night's sleep, because while she still felt overwhelmed emotionally, she felt plenty strong physically.

Stronger than ever, in fact. Or perhaps that was just the memory of the canyon's magic coursing through her. It was the most power she'd ever felt all at once. At the time, she'd been fighting too desperately for survival to fully appreciate it. But in memory, it was intoxicating.

The corridor was hushed as she walked toward the stairs, the creaking of the floorboards making her wince. It seemed she'd risen first, but familiar as she was with farm life, she knew that the others wouldn't be far behind. She wanted to be out of the house before anyone else emerged. She needed fresh air and solitude to clear her head.

The soft cluck of a sleepy chicken greeted her as she crossed the farmyard. The air was bitterly cold, no touch of sun yet having reached it. Marieke made her way through the copse of wild trees, sure of her direction. She'd only been there once before, but that occasion was vivid in her memory.

She stepped into Zev's orchard reverently. Morning mist shrouded the gnarled branches, almost heavy enough to be called fog. It made the air damp, and sent a shiver over Marieke's arms, but the cold was worth it. The scene was impossibly beautiful, otherworldly in its silent stillness. Branches reached up toward the sky and over the rows toward each other, like the trees were greeting one another gently in preparation for another day together.

As Marieke walked, the magic moved in the ground beneath her feet, plentiful in volume and strong in potential. It didn't dance like the magic of a windswept plain, and it certainly didn't surge about erratically like the fractured magic of Sundering Canyon. She was familiar with the powerful ebb and flow of magic near the ocean, and the way magic pooled into regular, invisible wells under a cornfield. The magic in the ground beneath Zev's orchard was different. Its movement was more like the steady, rhythmic flow of water in a deep, slow-moving river.

It was beautiful, and yet for some reason it made her heart ache unbearably. She was aware both of a desire to simply stand in its presence and soak it in, and a desire to throw herself to her knees to get closer to it. She pictured herself digging her fingers into the dirt in a futile attempt to catch hold of the magic and stop it from flowing endlessly, unstoppably on and away from her.

It felt like Zev, she realized. If he could be expressed in terms of magic, that was what he would feel like.

What he felt like physically, she remembered perfectly well. If she closed her eyes, she could believe herself once again pressed against him on the grass near the cliff, his strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe from vengeful elves and deathly falls alike.

"Marieke."

The soft voice made her turn, but not start. She hadn't heard him approach, but some part of her had known he would come. Hadn't she come here out of a desire to be closer to him? Where would he be found if not in his orchard?

"Good morning," she said softly, her eyes roaming over his face and taking in the scruffy shadow on his cheeks and his rumpled shirt. He'd dressed in haste, not stopping to shave.

"Are you recovered from yesterday?" Zev asked, his eyes searching her face as unashamedly as she'd been studying his.

"Yes."

She didn't ask the same question. His eyes were a little tired, but she could see at a glance that his form held all its usual strength. He was as solid and unyielding as the timeless trees in his orchard. And as entrancing, at least for her.

Zev seemed to be waiting for her to say more, but Marieke stayed silent. She had nothing in particular to say.

"I heard you leave the house," he said eventually. "Why did you come here?"

"Because I love it here," she said, pulling her eyes from his face and casting them around the orchard. Feeling bold, she returned her gaze to his features. "It feels like you."

Zev took a step forward, the swift movement seeming unconscious. "Mari…"

She felt her heart pick up speed, the shawl slipping a little way down her shoulder as she stood frozen. The light fabric of her sleeve underneath wasn't enough to ward off the chill of the air, and a shiver went over her.

Zev lifted a hand. For a moment she thought he would touch her cheek, but instead he slid the shawl back up her shoulder, using both hands to pull it more tightly around her.

"It's cold," he said.

"Yes," Marieke agreed, her skin tingling as his fingers brushed the base of her throat. She took hold of the shawl with one hand, reaching out boldly with the other to tug playfully at his open collar. "You should know."

Zev gave a chuckle that was lower and throatier than his usual laugh. "I followed you in a hurry."

Marieke's heart skipped another beat, but she kept her voice steady. "I get the sense your family would like you to stop doing that."

Zev's brow lowered, a pained look coming into his eyes. "I'm sorry about last night, Mari. They were taken off-guard, but that doesn't excuse being inhospitable."

Marieke shrugged. "You're not responsible for your family's behavior, Zev. Only your own."

He bit his lip, his discomfort apparently not eased by this assurance.

Marieke's smile held a hint of sadness. "For what it's worth, my parents would love you," she said. She gazed north, toward her distant home. "A strong, intelligent farmer who's unimpressed by academies and songcraft, and works the soil with his own hands?" Her eyes returned to his, the smile more pronounced. "They'd probably lock the doors so you couldn't leave if I brought you home."

Zev took another step closer, his eyes fixed on hers. "I want to meet them someday," he told her.

"Do you?" Her voice cracked a little, but she was past feeling self-conscious. "Do you even know what you want, Zev?"

By way of response, Zev lifted his hand again, this time tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Instead of lowering his hand, he brought it to rest on the side of her face, his fingers tangled in her hair and his thumb rough and warm against her cheek. Marieke closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She scolded herself for her weakness, but even knowing Zev was probably going to once again draw back, she couldn't bring herself to be the one to pull away first.

"I know what I want." His voice surprised her—she'd thought he wouldn't answer. Her eyes flew open to see his gaze fixed on her. "I know who I want."

Marieke felt her cheeks warm, her heartbeat once again erratic.

"I want to keep you safe, Mari." Zev's voice was low and earnest. "I want to keep my promises to you, and do right by you. That's what I want. But I also want to do right by my family. It's hard to explain, but the mess I'm in isn't of my making, or my family's. Everyone has their reasons." There was a hint of pleading in his voice. "Please don't think badly of them for it."

"I don't," she told him, her voice a murmur. "They have high standards for you, and so they should. You're special Zev, everyone who meets you can sense it."

"No." By contrast, Zev's voice was sharp. "That's not it, Marieke. It has nothing to do with you not being good enough, I swear."

"Then what?" she asked, her eyes adding a silent entreaty to her words.

"I wish I knew how to explain." His voice was agonized, his hand taut with tension on her face. Did he realize how close his thumb had strayed to her lips ?

"Well, you're running out of time to do it," she told him. "I'm not staying, Zev. I have to leave."

"Where are you going?" he asked quickly. "Back to Oleand?"

Marieke shook her head. "Further south." She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his fingers still on her skin as she took a breath and slowly released it. "I'm exhausted, Zev. I feel like I'm chasing the answer, but every step I take, it remains just as far out of reach. The things we saw at Port Taran sent me to the capital with my head full of questions. All I found was more questions, leading me to the canyon in search of the monarchists. And I found them, but instead of answers, they gave me new questions again."

"And these questions lead south?" Zev pressed, his voice prompting her to open her eyes again. Sudden understanding sent his brows up. "The elves? You want to go looking for them."

Marieke nodded. "Surely this time I'll find the source. If talismans all come from them, they must know what Gorgon was really up to, and how the disasters have continued after his death."

"But we only just escaped from the elves," Zev said, his hand tightening slightly in its grip. "Svetlana and Trina both warned us about Rissin."

"About Rissin, yes," Marieke acknowledged. "But they made it sound like most elves aren't as dangerous as him. I want to find their leader, the Imperator Trina mentioned. Maybe he can be reasoned with."

"Bargained with, more like," Zev said. His frown was uneasy. "I don't like it, Marieke. It's a long way, and you'd be at their mercy, even if you did find them."

Marieke gave a twisted smile. "Unlike you, with your farm to run, I have nothing better to do." When he didn't reply, just continued to look at her with a troubled expression, she pressed her palm gently onto his chest. "I can't give up now, Zev. I might be exhausted, but I'm determined. I want to save my country before it's too late to reverse its deterioration. And I can't fix whatever's happening until I find out what's causing it."

Never dropping his eyes from hers, Zev lifted his other hand to mirror the first, so that he held her face in his palms.

"Part of me wants to ask you to just let it go and stay here with me." He gave a wry smile. "But I know you'd never do it."

"Not while Oleand is falling apart," she said, trying not to show how much his touch affected her. "Not to mention the small issue of your family not wanting me here."

Zev made a noise in his throat that might have been protest or acknowledgment, it was hard to tell.

"What about the other part of you?" Marieke pressed.

Zev let out a small sigh. "That part wants to solve the mystery and make things right as much as you do," he admitted.

Marieke beamed at him, her heart swelling. "I'm glad," she whispered. "Having your support means more than you know."

"You'll have more than my support," Zev said. "I'm coming with you, of course."

Marieke bit her lip, pleased but uncertain. "Will your family let—"

"It's not up to my family," Zev cut her off. "We're stronger together, Marieke. I'm not letting you go without me."

Marieke latched on to his words, leaning toward him and pressing her hand more firmly against his chest. "We are stronger together, aren't we?" she agreed, trying not to sound too eager. "I don't know how to explain it, Zev, but something magical happens when we're together."

"I agree." His voice was gruff, and pleased as Marieke was by the admission, she shook her head .

"I'm talking about something practical and specific. You know that I can sense the magic in the ground, right?"

Zev nodded.

"Well, usually, when I'm preparing to sing, the magic pools to me. I can feel it gathering. But in the canyon, try as I might, I couldn't get the magic to behave in the normal way. It was like it was pooling to you, not to me."

"To me?" Zev sounded startled.

"Yes. It's hard to describe, but it was responding to my prompting, yet gathering to you. And once I figured that out—especially once you encouraged me that I could do it—I was somehow able to access it through you."

"The magic came through my body?" Zev asked.

Marieke shook her head. "It's more like it was drawn to you, then obeyed my song without coming into either of our bodies. I mean, some of it came up into me, but some of it just shot straight through the ground to do what I'd asked it."

"That sounds…strange." Zev spoke cautiously, and Marieke didn't blame him. It was all very baffling and unnerving.

"It was," she agreed. "And it's definitely not something I could make happen by myself. I really can't explain it, but it felt like it was something we did together."

Zev was silent for a moment as he thought this over. His hands still cupped her face, one thumb moving absently in a rhythmic circle over her skin. "And this was when we'd run into that cave?" he asked. "When we left the middle of the gorge and went fully under the Aeltan side of the canyon?"

"Yes," said Marieke slowly. "Yes, that's right. I hadn't thought about the fact that it was Aeltan land, but I suppose that's true."

Zev's eyes were glazed over, and he stayed silent for longer this time. Marieke didn't ask him what he was thinking. She was certain he wouldn't tell her, and in any event, she was consumed by her own thoughts. Some idea danced at the edge of her awareness, a suspicion that got its life from the strange secrecy that sometimes surrounded Zev. What was the significance of this new information? How did it all fit together?

"Well," Zev said at last, something in his voice that Marieke couldn't read. "I suppose if we're going all the way to the southern jungle, we'll have time to explore it all more as we go."

"You really want to come with me?" Marieke asked uncertainly. "Your family surely won't approve."

Zev gave a rueful smile. "They won't. They very much want to stay out of it, and in their minds, that includes me."

"Yes." Marieke considered him. "You're not quite a normal family, are you?" Again that suspicion stirred within her, an idea she couldn't quite place.

She expected the familiar guarded look to spring into Zev's eyes, but it didn't. He held her gaze, revealing nothing, but not retreating either.

"But my mind is made up, Mari," he said as the silence stretched out. "We're in this together, you and I. I'll see it through with you."

And then what? Marieke wanted to ask. But she didn't. One step at a time.

They stood in silence, the mist lifting as the sun crept up past the horizon. She could hear a rooster faintly from the farmyard, and knew that their stolen moment, suspended between night and day, would soon have passed.

But for another minute, they remained wrapped in the stillness of the orchard and the nearness of each other. Zev let one hand drop, and she thought he'd pull away. But he twined it loosely around her waist instead. Her breath caught in her throat as he slid the thumb of his other hand across her cheek, brushing it over her lips with a featherlight touch. The desire to kiss her again was clear in his eyes, and she almost believed he would give in to it. But he didn't, and she didn't push him.

She understood, at least as much as she could with her limited information. He wasn't willing to jump off the cliff with her, to tie himself to her in open defiance of his family. She couldn't help but be disappointed by that. She was only human. But he also wasn't willing to let her go. Not anymore. That was what she would hang on to. It was a step in the direction her heart was yearning for. Surely he would find a path all the way to her before long, if she was patient.

But song preserve her, it was hard to be patient! Especially when he stood so close, her lips still tingling from the touch of his thumb. Not quite ready to let go of the moment, she leaned into him, silently claiming him as hers, willing it to be true even though he wasn't yet ready to fully admit it to himself.

Marieke let out a small gasp as she felt the magic move beneath her feet.

"Mari?" Zev's whisper was low and hoarse.

She gave her head a little shake. "I'm all right. It's just the magic."

She didn't explain, too lost in the wonder of the sensation. The steady river of magic still flowed, but now it was interacting with them, even though she'd made no attempt to call it. She and Zev were like a protruding rock in the center of the stream, that the current of power flowed around. Except it was no longer bypassing them completely. Tendrils of magic were wrapping up and around their legs, interweaving and layering and absorbing them smoothly into the flow. It connected them not only to the land but to each other, as if they were tied together by invisible ribbons of power. Marieke's heart sang with the rightness of it—it was a certainty she could never have put into words. But it stilled her disappointment and calmed the last vestiges of fear over what Zev would do or leave undone. They belonged together, and she didn't believe for a moment that they were going to drift away from one another, like debris carried in different directions on the surface of the river.

They weren't debris. They were fused to the bedrock, and no turbulence of the water above could detach them.

"It's going to be all right," she whispered, as much to herself as to Zev. "It will work out somehow."

Zev didn't respond, but she felt some of the tension leave his body. For one more moment he held her near, then the rooster crowed again, and the enchantment was broken. He dropped his arms with the tiniest of sighs, and stepped back.

"You should rest while you can," he told her. "I have duties to attend to. It's the least I can do if I'm leaving again soon. We can delay our departure for a few days, can't we?"

"Of course," Marieke said. "If your family will tolerate my presence." She gave a firm nod. "But I don't need to sit around and rest all day. Physically I'm back to full strength. I know my way around a farm enough to be useful."

Zev grinned. "Far be it from me to stop you. If you're determined, my mother will most definitely put you to work. Come on."

He laced his fingers lightly through hers, tugging her back toward the copse of trees that stood between the orchard and the farmhouse. Marieke's lips curled in a private smile at the ease of the gesture, like it was nothing for him to take her hand.

She couldn't help noticing that he dropped it before they emerged into the farmyard, however. One step at a time, she reminded herself.

The next few days were busy enough to keep Marieke from dwelling on her emotions. As Zev had predicted, Narelle had her working hard to help keep things running. It was clear that they'd missed Zev during his brief absence, for which Marieke couldn't help feeling guilty. He would be gone much longer if he came with her all the way to the jungle in Aeltas's south.

At least Narelle seemed inclined to be more friendly than Azai, who generally avoided Marieke. Zev's mother plied Marieke with questions as they worked side-by-side, and Marieke was only too glad to answer openly. If Narelle wanted to know more about the girl her son had brought home, Marieke was very ready to further that goal. Outside the reach of the Oleandan Council of Singers, she had nothing to hide.

As for how the family took the news that Zev planned to leave again with her, Marieke didn't know. Zev told them after she'd retired to bed the second evening—she suspected he wanted to protect her from witnessing the conversation. Azai was particularly surly the next morning, but no one mentioned it to her face.

That didn't stop her from feeling guilty, of course. The more time she spent with Zev's family, the more they felt like real people who cared about him, rather than distant obstacles to their relationship. And she found herself catching a hint of Zev's inner conflict within herself. She hated knowing she was causing tension. She even considered slipping away without Zev late one night. But that would be foolish as well as cowardly. She would be much more likely to succeed in finding the elves and getting to the bottom of Oleand's troubles with his help—as he'd said, they were stronger together.

When the morning of their departure dawned, Marieke was up and ready. She'd slept poorly, which was a shame, since it could be her last night in a real bed for a while.

Whatever their feelings about their son's decision, Zev's parents made no barrier to their departure. When she met Zev in the kitchen, Narelle had not only laid out breakfast, but packed provisions into both her rucksack and Zev's pack.

"I'm off to milk the cow," Narelle said, her voice a little gruff as she embraced her son. "You be safe now, Zev. We'll see you when your errand is done."

Marieke averted her eyes as Zev hugged his mother.

"Where's Father?"

"In the small yard," Narelle said as she moved toward the door. "He's expecting you to say goodbye before you go."

Neither of them made any mention of Azai, who'd clearly decided to skip the farewell scene.

"Take your time," Zev told Marieke, gesturing to the food. "Meet me in the yard when you're ready."

Marieke nodded, but once she was alone in the kitchen, she found she had no appetite. The mood of the house was too somber, like it was losing its son and heir forever, and it unnerved her. After only a couple of minutes, she grabbed her rucksack and made her way out into the yard.

There was no sign of Zev, and she remembered that his mother had directed him to the small yard. Where was that? Casting her eyes around, she remembered the training yard where Zev had retrieved his sword the first time she'd been at the property. It had struck her as odd at the time that a farm had a training yard designed for combat practice.

She made her way across the farmyard, stopping at the entrance to the training area. Zev was there, standing next to his father, who was seated and appeared to be sharpening his sword.

"Picked yourself another blade to take with you, I see." The older man's voice carried through the still air, as did Zev's reply.

"It'll do. I liked the last one better, but…it'll do."

Gideon nodded, pausing to examine the weapon he was sharpening. "This became my sword the day my father died. He was taken too soon and too suddenly. A foolish farming accident. "

"I know, Father." Zev's voice was low and respectful. "I remember."

Gideon sighed, looking up at his son. "He would have remained strong into old age, I have no doubt. I remember seeing him hold this sword when I was a small child. I thought he must be the strongest man in the world."

Marieke had a good view of Zev's profile, and she saw his lips curve into a smile. "He was still formidable in my childhood."

Gideon smiled as well, standing. Marieke thought he would put the sword back in the storage area, but he strapped it to his side.

"You're my son, Zev," he said simply. "And I trust you. In spite of everything, your life and your happiness are not worth less than any other man's."

"Thank you, Father." Strangely, Zev sounded a little surprised by this statement.

"But," Gideon continued, "they're not all that matters."

"I know, Father."

Gideon nodded. "I know you do. And I trust you to make decisions based on more than what you want." He clapped his son on the shoulder. "And to come home safely to us."

"I will," Zev promised.

His father nodded again. "Goodbye then, Zev."

He turned away, carrying the sharpening stone toward the storage area. Zev shouldered his pack and moved toward the opening of the yard, his step faltering when he saw Marieke there.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to sneak up on—"

"No, it's all right." He waved off her apology. "Just saying goodbye to my father. Let's go."

Marieke nodded, following him back across the yard. They weren't taking horses this time. The farm couldn't spare them for as long as the journey might take. Zev seemed confident they could hitch rides until out of his immediate region, after which they would look into securing transport in public vehicles.

"You don't want to find your brother and say goodbye to him as well?" Marieke asked, as they approached the main gate.

Zev gave a chuckle that didn't hold much mirth. "Azai? No. I don't think there's much more to say there." He shot her a sideways look. "I invited him to come with us last night."

"You did?" She looked at him in astonishment.

"I suppose I should have asked you first," Zev said. "But I thought we could use his help. He's more useful than he seems, and actually great company when he's not sulking."

"What did he say?" Marieke asked.

Zev's lips quirked to the side. "I'll leave that to your imagination."

They walked for several minutes in silence after that. Marieke could see Zev shooting the occasional look at her.

"Are you all right?" he asked at last.

Marieke nodded, her throat tight. "I'm fine. I just…I feel like I'm tearing a good family apart."

Zev laughed, the sound more carefree than Marieke had expected. "Firstly, you're not responsible for any of this. Secondly, my family is stronger than that. We've withstood worse. We'll be all right."

Marieke glanced back at the farm, the gate barely in view now. She could only hope Zev was right. The destruction of his family wasn't something she wanted on her conscience.