Gift- Book 1

Chapter 13

"There she is. Karyk."

Leiea perks up from her half-asleep position on the driver's seat. They had been traveling for another four days. Nothing strange happened, even being around that forest so much, and the horses remained calm after that one day.

They also had kept up the good habit of washing their wounds out, which had worked nicely. As nicely as it could go with reused material and no medicine, anyway.

Her cuts had scabbed over well, although the skin around it is still a little raw and dry. Sheyric's, on the other hand, hasn't changed at all. His pale skin around it remains red, and the gash refuses to close on its own. The best part is that the bleeding stopped quickly.

"At least it's not infected," he said, "We know it's not life threatening." That's true, but it still worries her, that it might interfere with their traveling.

At least Karyk is right there. No matter how bad their medical care is, at least it will be something. He might even need stitches. Hopefully they have a suitable doctor for the job.

And it stands right there in the distance. She's glad they made it so fast. They didn't stop last night to sleep, and Sheyric's been driving with the same arm for almost a full day, non stop. Somehow, he shows no signs of stopping, and if anything, is getting faster and more rushed as they reach the village.

She yawns and grabs a pack of crackers from behind the seat. The crackers, she had noticed, have different flavors, this one being vaguely cinnamon flavored. She puts one on his arm, since they both haven't been eating enough. It almost seems like he's been starving himself. Like he's running on old water and adrenaline alone. It's almost as if his eyes have set on a wild look as well, and his general aura is off from his normal happy demeanor. Yet somehow, he still has a ghost of a smile on.

Leiea sits back and eats the crackers, watching Karyk roll into view. It looks how she thought it would. Full of drab browns and yellows, matching all the material grass and wood surrounding them. There's big banners hanging from almost every building.

Sheyric finally eats the cracker sitting on his arm and rubs his eyes. "We'll stay at this little motel they have, it's a lot better than this old thing. We park it over at their market, picket the horses, set up the stall... their market is very similar to ours at home."

She nods but frowns at the mention of home. She thinks of Fleya, how much she would enjoy seeing all the craftsmanship and simplicity here. How much she would love weaving her own little banner. She shakes the thought from her head and fixes her eyes on Karyk.

Soon, they get close enough to make out wisps of smoke from chimneys, and the figures of brightly-dressed people walking around on the streets. Some houses have strange sheds on the side, as if to guard precious material. They almost look more sturdy than the buildings themselves. As they get even closer, a woman on the patch of a larger house jumps out of her seat and starts walking over to the caravan briskly, avoiding the horses,

Sheyric leans over the edge of the seat. "Plei!" He shouts, and the woman smiles. She quickens her pace and stops at Leiea's side of the car. "Sheyric, how lovely." she says, in a deep accent. Her dark eyes fall over Leiea with a quizzical look.

"Meet Leiea, my new business partner and friend." He responds. "Leiea, this is Plei, the manager of the motel." Plei curtsies a little.

"Sheyric always stays at my motel, " she motions to the building she walked away from. "I met him long ago, and I am certain you will enjoy it." She smiles and pulls the linen sleeves of her dress shirt over her dark brown arms.

"Yes, thank you." Leiea responds. Sheyric swings down from the seat with an urgency and Plei's frown deepens. "What in the world happened to your arm?" She walks over to the over side to inspect the cast. His back stiffens. "The horse got us," She frowns, but he keeps talking. "Would you mind if Leiea sees the Storage?"