Involuntary otherworldly teleportation was really starting to get on Tahl’s nerves, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about it.
It had to be his fault, see. It had to be his magic gone awry, some poor fool wishing for things in his general vicinity without any clue about the repercussions. Tahl could imagine all the ways it could have gone: I wish we were anywhere but here. I wish we were far away. I wish we were home.
Not that any of those wishes would explain how he’d ended up here, however.
Tahl had been…places…but never here. He had never felt heat like this, blurring over his skin like a touch, dragging moisture immediately from the pores. He had never seen sand this color, or a sky in such a searing blue. The dry air was perfectly still; light rippled through it in the distance. A beetle scuttled audibly across the sand at his feet. This was a landscape of extremes, and if he’d ever been here before, he would surely remember it. He squinted, blinking painfully against the blazing light, the first feelings of confusion slowly giving way to panic. He could feel Ihintza’s absence as acutely as he had on the island, but this was much worse than the island. That place had been a jungle, just another world of trees. This one…Tahl had no idea how to survive, in this one.
Fortunately, it was in that moment that his focus snagged on a movement in his peripheral vision – he turned toward it, and saw the only familiar thing for miles around. Anapa.
The panic ebbed, leaving behind a sense of bewilderment, a faint edge of fear. Anapa, for his part, did not seem as disturbed as Tahl felt; in fact, he seemed almost natural here. He followed the lordling’s gaze and turned, falling back until they stood side by side. An incomprehensible building loomed in the distance. When Anapa finally spoke, his soft voice was so jarring in this oppressive stillness that Tahl flinched. It took another moment for him to register the words.
“Oh,” he said, flatly.
This explanation only raised more questions; Tahl didn’t know where to start. He knew his lordling friend was high-born from another world, but had never expected to be confronted with the details – had certainly never expected to see it for himself. And while Anapa wasn’t lost and disoriented in this place, neither did he appear particularly thrilled to be back. So that dispensed with the theory that a wish had brought them here.
Tahl heaved a sigh and followed his friend in the direction of the palace.
The sand was terrible. It had been irritating on the island, barefoot, but it was even worse in boots – it wormed its way inside as soon as they moved and was still hot by the time it got in there. Dressed in his typical wool-and-leather hunting attire and generally better suited to a cool climate than a warm one, Tahl was soon sweating bullets, his dark curls plastered to his skull and dripping down his neck. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt as they walked, panting, but it was a futile gesture; whatever was exposed was just as hot beneath the sun, and burned.
If he were with Bryar, he would have complained about it. But Anapa seemed…troubled, or something, and then he was speaking in that genteel way of his, until a voice interrupted them from behind. Tahl whirled on the spot, reaching for an arrow that wasn’t there. His first though was: Shit.
His second was: Prince?
A sick feeling coiled in his belly as he looked between Prince Anapa and this “Atelli” person, closely following their exchange. Something about the situation was very wrong, and it wasn’t the revelation of his friend’s title. Tahl couldn’t put his finger on it, but his instincts were on high alert: a forest-creature feeling. A stillness that surrounded danger.
He scowled at Atelli. Beneath the skin, his magic roiled defensively. Anapa had taken the lead again, and Tahl took a few long strides to catch him up, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this,” he inquired under his breath, standing just behind Anapa’s shoulder.
An answer was hardly required. As soon as they arrived at the palace walls, Tahl knew.
The place was teeming with people. Rich, important people acting rich and important, servant-people ducking out from beneath their haughty gazes, people that were either guards or soldiers, looking severe and vigilant. All of these people released a collective gasp when they caught sight of Anapa. Their Prince. What was it with missing royalty, and their strange receptions? The crowd parted like a sea before them as everyone, rich and poor alike, groveled and fawned over his friend. But even with the apparent deference, the space being made, Tahl could still feel himself being drawn deeper into the building complex, pushed and pulled by invisible forces around them.
He glanced over at Anapa warily. To anyone else, it might have seemed another, more ordinary scowl.
“Who are these people?”
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