Amber and Blood - Margaret Weis [54]
“Straight as the dragon flies,” Mina said.
Rhys recalled the near-drowning incident in the tower. He recalled the meat pies and the fiery conflagration that had consumed the Beloved, and he knew he had to put a stop to this. He had to take control.
“Stop it, Mina!” Rhys said sternly. “Stop it at once! Put me down this instant!”
Mina stared at him, her eyes round and starting to glisten with tears.
“Now!” he said through gritted teeth.
He felt himself grow heavy, and he fell back down to the ground. Nightshade dropped like rock, landing with a thud. Atta, once she was down, slunk off hurriedly to curl up beneath a tree, as far from Mina as possible.
Mina drifted very slowly out of the air to land in front of Rhys.
“We are walking to Solace,” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “Do you understand me, Mina? We are not swimming or flying. We are walking!”
Mina’s tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. She flung herself on the ground and began to sob.
Rhys was trembling. He had always prided himself on his discipline and here he was, yelling at a child. He was suddenly, deeply ashamed.
“I didn’t mean to shout at you, Mina—” he began wearily.
“I just wanted to get there faster!” she cried, raising a tearstained and dirt-streaked face. “I don’t like walking. It’s boring and my feet hurt! And it’s going to take too long, forever and ever. Besides, Aunt Zeboim told me I could fly,” she added with a quiver and a hiccup.
Nightshade nudged Rhys in the ribs. “It is a long way and flying might be kind of interesting at that—”
Rhys looked at him. Nightshade gulped.
“But you’re right, of course. We should walk. That’s why the gods gave us feet and not wings. I’ll just go to bed now.…”
Rhys knelt down and took Mina in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed on his shoulder. Gradually her sobs lessened, she grew quiet. Rhys, looking down at her, saw that she had cried herself to sleep. He carried her to her blanket that he’d spread on a soft bed of grass beneath a tree and laid her down. He was tucking another blanket around her when she woke up.
“Good night, Mina,” he said, and he reached out his hand to gently smooth back the hair from her forehead.
Mina grabbed hold of his hand and gave it a remorseful kiss.
“I’m sorry, Rhys,” she said. It was the first time she’d ever called him by his name and not ‘Mister Monk’. “We can walk. But could we walk fast?” she added plaintively. “I think I need to reach Godshome quickly.”
Rhys was bone-tired, or he might have thought twice before he agreed that, yes, they could “walk fast”.
he next day, they were in Solace.
“After all,” pointed out Nightshade, when he had recovered from the trip, “you did tell her we could walk fast.”
The morning had started well. Mina was in a chastened mood, quiet and docile. Wisps of fog rose lazily from the stream bed. They set out early with Rhys walking as fast as he thought Mina could manage. When he first saw the trees and grasslands start to slip past him, the increase in speed was so gradual that he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
But then the landscape began to slide past him at an incredible velocity. He and Nightshade, Mina and Atta continued to walk at what seemed a normal pace. Fellow travelers flashed past. Clouds raced across the sky. One moment the weather was sunny and the next rain storms soaked them, and the next moment it was sunny again. They sped through the desert. The city of Delphon was a blur of color, the city of Khuri-Khan a blast of noise and heat.
The ogres of Blöde were there, and then they weren’t. The Great Swamp was muggy and stifling and foul-smelling, but not for long. They skimmed across the Westguard River and saw the sun sparkle on the waves of New Sea and then it was gone and the Plains of Dergoth were so much emptiness. The Lake of Death lay in eerie shadow, the White