An Affinity For Fire

28. Clover

The journey from Aestas to Ocassus was a hellish experience.

Calio and several other members of the Aestasan court knew of their plans to stay in Ocassus, so taking the direct route along the Red Road as they'd planned would have been asking for capture. Instead, they returned to the Tear of Viridel, a ride which took them half the night. The following morning, they continued in the direction they thought was North, but a misreading of the sun's position in the sky caused them to veer slightly too far East, a minor mistake which, over the vast expanse of the Fractured Fields, added several hours to their journey.

By the second morning, the group, along with their wolf and three half-breeds, were dehydrated and starving. In their rush to inconspiciously prepare for the journey, they hadn't packed nearly enough food. To add to their discomfort, the blistering heat was making them all sweat, even Clover who was beginning to develop a resistance to the heat. She couldn't even begin to imagine how the others must have felt.

Of course, she wouldn't have to imagine, if they weren't all refusing to talk to each other unless absolutely necessary. No doubt both boys would otherwise have had plenty of complaints to share.

It was only thanks to her ability with a bow that they even made it to the Marsh Track alive. If she hadn't brought down the vultures that had been circling their camp a little too curiously, the half-breeds would have had nothing to eat and wouldn't have had the energy to carry them any further.

The Marsh Track itself, which Clover had expected to be a welcome relief from the barren wasteland, ended up presenting a great array of its own challenges. The marshlands spanning between Ortus and Ocassus were famed for the onslaught of rain they suffered. To Clover's disappointment, the stories were not exaggerated. The regular showers drenched their clothes and packs, adding to the load of the already weighed-down half-breeds. They also turned the ground to a squelching, sploshing mess. Even when they stuck to the track, the half-breeds were fighting through several inches of thick mud, which did nothing to help their pace.

They made camp for the fourth time when they reached the bridge over the White Tongue's estuary.

"How much more of this do we have to endure?" Tarry asked, wringing out his wool coat.

"Half a day," Leo answered.

That was all any of them said for the remainder of the evening.

They released the half-breeds, allowing them to fish in the estuary. Weyra ran off for about an hour, returning with a rabbit between her jaws. Clover, too tired to hunt, picked at the meagre amount of soggy bread she'd saved.

She passed the evening testing her new-found abilities. She tried clicking, rubbing her palms together, squeezing her hands into fists, anything she could think of. It had to be possible. She was resistant to fire. Surely she could make it...

How did Calio do it? She remembered how the Queen Regent would flick her thumbnail against the nail of her middle finger, and tried that.

Nothing.

She tried to remember a single other red mage she knew whose technique she could copy, but came to the same conclusion as always - there weren't any. She'd never met another red mage before Calio, and couldn't remember any stories of anyone in her family who had been one. There were plenty of green mages in her lineage, and even a fair number of blue mages due to the many cross-marriages between Ortusians and Ocassans. But she couldn't seem to think of a single Ortusian red mage.

People already thought giving birth to a blonde proved her mother had cheated. She didn't want to imagine what they would whisper about her if they found out about this.

Exhausted and frustrated, she gave up, wrapped her damp blanket around herself and tried to get some sleep.

She wasn't particularly successful at that, either.

After many hours of shuddering and rolling around, the sun crept over the Eastern horizon. Clover threw back her blanket. Her whole body ached. She heaved at her pack, loading everything in with stiff arms. Her stomach growled, protesting against the lack of breakfast. She tried to suppress the pain with a gulp of water. It didn't work.

The boys finished packing shortly after she did. Wincing, she hauled herself onto Thunder's back.

Half a day, she chanted in her head in time with the half-breeds hooves. Half a day. Half a day.

The road they took through the outer villages of Ocassus, known as The Capillaries, was stone insead of earth, so at least it was solid. With decent terrain and well-fed half-breeds, their pace was considerably better than it had been over the past few days. The rain had stopped, too. In fact, Clover would probably almost have gone as far as to say she was comfortable, if it hadn't been for a whole new breed of pain that The Capillaries brought.

Ocassus was a coastal kingdom. Hence, it had an abundance of fishermen, and the streets of The Capillaries were filled with market stalls lined with all manner of fish, crab, lobster and dried seaweed.

The scent of it all made Clover gag.

Thankfully, the Lapisalis household was far from The Capillaries' streets. The family lived in The Arteries, the region of Ocassus equivalent to the Ortusian Spine. The deeper into The Arteries they rode, the larger and more sparsely distributed the houses became, until they stood three or four stories tall, separated by vast gardens and even the odd field. Ocassans weren't renowned for their farming, not in the same way as the Ortusians, but without the burning heat of Aestas or the numbing cold of Dormis, the Ocassan climate was ideal for livestock. Several of the richer families kept horses, goats and dairy cattle as a hobby.

The Lapisalises, apparently, were one such family. Their house was perched at the edge of a cliff, overhanging a small cove and surrounded by expansive fields, although Clover couldn't tell what they kept, since there wasn't an animal in sight.

When they dismounted just outside the house, Clover almost collapsed.

A serving boy greeted them at the door, bowing towards Leo. "Prince Heleonne Monfort. Welcome to the Lapisalis home. I'll have the stable boy direct you to the stables and see to your half-breeds." He turned to Clover and Tarry. "Please, come in. The stables aren't far, Prince Heleonne will rejoin you shortly."

Clover stretched out her arms and legs, desperate to get out of her damp clothes. She strode on aching feet towards the broad, grey, stone house. She'd expected something a little more elegant from one of the richest families in the realm, but she wasn't complaining. The building had walls and a roof. They could have her sleeping on the floor and she'd cry with gratitude after the nights she'd spent exposed to the rain and wind.

With Tarry close behind her, she followed the serving boy inside.