Page 103 of Storm of Shadows
I retrieve some aether crystals for Zephyr and beef jerky for myself. It isn’t particularly appealing, but wildlife is scarce here since we’re close to the Ghost Woods. The dried food Taria and the twins pull out of their bags doesn’t look much more appetizing.
Once we’re finished, I yank off my boots and lie back on my blanket and stretch my toes, Zephyr nestling into my side. My feet ache from all the walking we’ve done today, though not enough to warrant the use of Ice Honey, but I much prefer traveling on foot to horseback. However, I can’t deny that the latter is much quicker, and I don’t know how deep Gerazad is into Jektar.
I frown and look up at the twins. “Do you think we’d be best stopping at a nearby village and buying horses and fresh supplies? If there’s a village nearby, that is.”
“We won’t find horses in any orcish village,” Juron says.
“We won’t?”
Caya shakes her head. The flames highlight the scar stretching across her cheek. “Orcs ride wolves, not horses.”
“Oh,” I say. “What about supplies, at least?”
“They would sooner cross blades than trade with us,” Caya says.
My frown deepens. “Humans and orcs are at peace.”
“That doesn’t mean they like us,” Caya replies.
“If not for the Grand Priestess’s power,” Juron adds, “along with the combined forces of every human nation, they would have long attacked our borders.”
“Even being here on their territory breaches the peace treaty,” Caya says.
“Surely just anyone crossing their border can’t violate the treaty?”
“We aren’t anyone,” Caya says, nodding over to Taria who’s already deep in meditation. A golden aura radiates from her. “We’re traveling with the future Grand Priestess of Selynis.”
If the orcs are as hostile as Caya says, how will I convince them of the threat Arluin and his necromancers pose to them? As soon as High Priestess Ahelin discovered my connection to Natharius, she stopped believing my story. It’s possible the orcs won’t believe me at all. But nothing can be done about it until we reach Gerazad. Hopefully when we arrive, I can think of a way to convince them of the truth—or that they’re willing to be reasoned with.
In an attempt to lift my spirits, I rummage through all the humming orbs inside my satchel until I find the bottle of moon blossom wine I packed, along with the two crystalline goblets from Father’s cabinet. Juron watches me curiously as I pour the wine out into both goblets, so I cross our camp and hold one out to him.
“Here,” I say, “help yourself to some wine.”
Juron takes the goblet from me and peers down into the glittering surface. “I’ve never seen wine like this before.” He dips his finger into the wine and tries a few drops. “It’s so sweet. And . . . tingly. Is there aether in it?”
I nod. “There’s a reason moon blossom wine is Nolderan’s most treasured wine.” I hold the other goblet out to Caya.
“No, thanks,” she says. “Juron’s the one with a sweet tooth, not me. I couldn’t think of anything worse.”
“What about Taria?” I say, though I’m not sure how the aether in the moon-blossom wine will react to the light magic in Taria’s blood. “Will she want any?”
“I doubt it,” Caya replies. “She’ll be busy meditating for a few hours, and she isn’t the biggest wine drinker.”
I start back over to my blanket with the goblet but catch Natharius’s gaze and head toward him. The Void Prince probably doesn’t deserve such kindness, not after all the insults and threats and taunts he’s ever paid me, but now he’s determined to defeat Arluin—even if it’s for his own agenda—and so it seems politeness is the best approach. Besides the nicer I am, the less he’ll torture me in the afterlife. Whenever that will be.
The demon doesn’t look at me as I near him. His gaze remains on the stars.
I hold the goblet of moon blossom wine out to him. “Do you want some?”
He glances back at me. “No.”
“You know, it is customary to say ‘no, thank you’ when one is offered something for nothing in return.”
He stares blankly at me.
I wonder whether manners are respected in Lumaria as much as in Nolderan, or whether Natharius has lost them during his past millennium in the Abyss. Though it also wouldn’t surprise me if he never had them to begin them. He was a prince, as well as the High Enchanter. I doubt either breeds humility and good manners.
“Don’t you like moon blossom wine?” I ask, withdrawing the goblet. “I thought all moon elves loved it, especially enchanters.”