Gift- Book 1

Chapter 15

"It's a wonderful hide, thank you."

The tall man standing in front of her, the first customer of the day, tips his hat and walks away from the stall holding a fist-sized chunk of quartz. Not only was that the first customer of Karyk, but it was also Leiea's first successful trade. Not one of the useless practice ones put together by Sheyric. She turns around with a weary smile to see his reaction.

Thankfully, he's nodding and smiling a little, leaning back on the caravan but still ridged. "Well done," he says, "I'm glad you know the worth of a good fur when you see it. Still, I should have told you the possibility of being traded for them. Put it in the crate."

She releases a pent up breath and throws the mass of golden-brown deer fur into the "trade crate", as they call it. It's for things that are traded to them that aren't something they would normally sell. The goal is to trade or sell it back to another merchant or vendor to distribute wealth.

She sits back on the wall of the caravan next to him, thinking about all the things that huge hide could be made into back home. It's large enough to be a blanket, maybe two pairs of socks, a few hats. The way the skin was treated is exactly what they need to be made into something for comfort.

They've already been out for three hours, long before most of the people are awake. Soaking up every bit of shade they could find, and taking turns sitting out behind the counter to attract customers. Even in the morning, the heat is unbearable. Already, Sheyric had to go inside and guzzle water to fight off the heat exhaustion from his dark hair soaking up the sun. She had wanted to go inside and help him, but "There always has to be at least one of us outside." To her, that is the opposite of logic in a place that isn't safe to them.

"We'll go back to the motel for lunch in an hour or so," Sheyric says, repositioning his hands. "We're due for a break anyway."

She nods and waits a minute before asking, "Has there ever been another person in the motel at the same time as you? It doesn't seem to get much business."

He bobs his head in a mock laugh. "Once, yes. A horribly annoying man that came from Dofia. I believe his name was Fiach. Not sure what he was doing here, but it seemed like his only goal was to terrorize everyone here. Yet, he wasn't particularly unsuccessful."

She snorts and crosses her arms. "What'd he look like?"

"Intimidating. If it helps, Plei didn't seem to trust even me once he left. Hopefully, you don't get a taste of that Dofian madness when we go. Although, something always happens."

"Does Dofia... have laws? Every time it's brought up it seems like the most dangerous place in the world."

He barks a laugh. "They don't! Just the country-wide thing of no murder. Technically, they can do whatever they want. The only reason we go is that they take any price you set. Still, we only stay for at most four days."

"Remember, you can get anything you like from the kitchen,"

Plei nods over her shoulder and sets a bunch of cups on the table in front of them. She had rushed over to them from the other side of Karyk just to get them back inside. Luckily, she knew it was growing too hot for them, even if Sheyric says they have to stay.

He immediately starts drinking from the water cup enthusiastically. Fepko, who's sitting at Leiea's feet, jumps up and starts barking at him. "Shh," Plei looks down at the dog and nudges him before walking back to the kitchen.

Sheyric slams the cup down and runs his fingers through his hair as if trying to air-dry the sweat from it. "How does anyone survive here?"

"You say that every year," Plei says with her back turned.

"Well, then I'm actually curious every time. Do you not sweat? You're wearing a dress! With layers! And that man back there was in a full vest and hat and..."

"You sure are passionate about this." Leiea takes a long drink from her cup.

"He is every time," Plei swings around the wooden spoon she's holding. "When he's sleep-deprived and starved, he's a monster. When he's overheated, he's emotional."

"And when he's not, he's a cheery ray of sunshine," Leiea adds with a flourish.

He glares at her and finishes his cup, slamming it down a little more softly. "I just don't want to overheat, sweetheart."

She blinks. "Sweetheart?"

He nods and lifts the empty cup to inspect. "Sweetheart." He stands up and fills the cup up again next to Plei, who is cutting a strangely small watermelon.

They both walk back, Plei with the tray of watermelon, and all three of them start eating the naturally chilled fruit desperately, Leiea leaving the biggest pieces for him. It's so strange he is so affected by the heat, she thinks. Sure, it's horrible, but it shouldn't make someone overly emotional and so drastic. Sweetheart. Since when has he said that? She takes a bite of the sweet watermelon, reminding her of Ryn. It's his favorite fruit. Sometimes they would snack on a whole melon during lunch break and be full for the rest of the day, unable to pay attention to the rest of class. Well, maybe that was just her problem. Ryn can pick up anything said to him and understand.

She almost surprises herself, so be thinking about Ryn now. That hasn't happened since... when? The last real thought she has given to him was when she and Sheyric walked by his house, going to the caravan to get here. And when was that? A week ago? It seems like months.

It just confirms her suspicions that this voyage around Kiira will turn out to feel like years of travel. How Sheyric could manage it so well and so much, she has no clue.