10-2
Vantaiga racked her brain to find a reason to say no. She couldn’t possibly say yes to this stranger, but his hopefulness was drawing her in. The thought of turning him away fought with the thought of him needing her help. Her adrenaline increased along with her heart rate as her body responded the opposite of her mind.
She opened her mouth to speak, but reason abandoned her, and some other consciousness made the words for her. “It is too late now. We would have to leave before sunrise.” Secretly, she cursed to herself again. It was not what she wanted to say at all, but at least she hadn’t said yes.
“Thank you very much. I greatly appreciate it. And I can pay you for it.” The man gave her an infectious smile that made her flush.
Vantaiga shook her head, more to clear it than to reply. “Don’t pay me. I have no need for money out here.”
“Well, thank you all the same. My name is Syffox.”
“Si fox?”
“‘Sife fux,’ but close enough. May I know your name?”
The question came as a surprise to her. She couldn’t remember when someone had actually been interested in knowing her name. “I’m… Vantaiga.”
Syffox bowed. “Pleased to meet you, Vantaiga.”
Vantaiga was grateful of the fading light to hide her blushing, but she couldn’t hide her smile. She fidgeted with her hands on the hidden rolling pin and looked out the door awkwardly, noticing he had a mount. “Oh, you have a horse. I didn’t see it there.”
She rubbed her side. She couldn’t believe the thoughts going through her head. She looked about the interior of her small home. She did have her magic and her plants. Yes, she had vines and thorned bushes at her call. Surely she had nothing to fear of a lone messenger seeking aid at the threshold of her sanctuary. She drew in a breath before returning to him. “Um, I’m about to have supper. Would you like to join me?”
Syffox replied with another melting smile that pulled for her attention. She wished he would stop doing that. “Normally I wouldn’t want to intrude, but I’ve been smelling your cooking from halfway up the mountainside and couldn’t refuse if I tried.”
“It’s just soup and bread.”
“Well, it smells amazing.”
Vantaiga opened the lower half of her door. She invited him in, trying to keep her expression from appearing foolish. “Come in, Mister Sife-fux.”
Inside, Syffox found the little home to be warm and inviting, if not dimly lit and crowded with plants. “You certainly like to keep your place green.”
Vantaiga looked around the kitchen. “The plants? They keep me company.”
“So, it’s just you and your plants out here? Nobody else?”
She replied casually, “Just me, the plants, the animals, and the wind.”
“You’re not worried being out here all alone?”
She placed the heavy rolling pin on the counter with a thump and fixed him more seriously. “I can take care of myself out here.” She gave a pat to the pot of a bright, thick hanging ivy. “Besides, I have my plants to protect me.”
“I see. Well, you certainly have built quite an oasis out here in the desert.”
The strange man appeared noticeably impressed but shifted about uneasily as he looked about the numerous plants. Vantaiga suppressed feeling pleased with herself as she mused that perhaps the man was noticing the plants were sizing him up.
She invited him to sit at the table while she placed some dishes. Syffox’s stomach growled at the smell of freshly cooked food.
Vantaiga teased, “You’re hungry, then?”
“I didn’t think so until now. But it has been a while since I’ve had anything more than trail biscuits and small game. A decently cooked meal is quite a delicacy for me these days.”
“I’m sure I have something here you’ll like.”
Syffox’s smile became coy. “I’m sure you have.”
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Vantaiga found her small kitchen suddenly becoming overly warm.
She ladled soup into their bowls and brought bread and cheese to the table. Syffox began fumbling for a table knife in the dimming light of the room. Vantaiga abruptly excused herself, “Oh, sorry,” and reached to light a brand from the oven. “I’ve become accustomed to darkness in my own kitchen.” She lit a small lamp hanging from the wall. “I only light the lamps when it’s very late.” She smiled knowingly to herself. Secretly, she was practising her magic to see in the low light to save oil and had forgotten others couldn’t see in the darkness as she could.
Syffox thanked her as he resumed cutting the rind away from the cheese. “So, how come you’re all the way out here by yourself?”
Vantaiga slipped into thoughts of her past. “It’s quiet out here. There’s nobody to bother you.”
“Well, it certainly seems nice. I’m impressed you’ve been able to create so much in the desert.”
Vantaiga dismissed the compliment with the thought of her hidden spring. “I’m good with plants; we make do with what we have.” She continued, wanting to move the subject away from her secret. “I grew up around here. Before the desert came in, this was a big farming area.” She dipped a piece of bread in her soup. “Once the farms dried up, everyone moved away.”
“Even your family?”
Vantaiga paused. “Yes, they moved on too.” Now she really wanted to change the subject. Even at the best of times she was not comfortable talking about herself. “And you? Why are you delivering messages to the middle of nowhere?”
Syffox took a spoonful of soup before replying, “I like to travel and see new things. The message is for a kingdom far north of here. I’m just passing through your middle of nowhere.”
“You sound like you are from the north. Are you heading home as well?”
Now it was Syffox’s turn to be distant. “No. There’s no home for me there.”
Vantaiga looked at him curiously. “No family either?”
Syffox sighed. “No, just me. There’s nothing there anymore.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s ancient history.” Syffox’s gaze turned inward for a moment. “We had trees in my homeland. They weren’t elegant palms or fruit trees like yours, but they were green and cool.” He glanced outside her window. “It’s nice to see that shade stands can still grow in this world.”
“I take it they’re gone as well now?”
“Yes. Turned to dust like so much else in this world.”
Vantaiga felt an unfamiliar sympathy for the soft-spoken foreigner. She regretted bringing up his past but felt strangely glad that he shared. Perhaps not all men were worthy of her scorn. She couldn’t leave the mood like this, though. She wouldn’t be a good hostess if she didn’t keep her unexpected guest in good company. She cheered him with a lift of her bowl. “Well, for today, you have good soup and bread.”
Syffox broke his reminiscing. “Yes, thank you for the soup and bread. It’s very good—almost as beautiful as the company.” He ended his reply with a bit of a start.
Vantaiga chuckled. “My soup and I are not that beautiful.”
Syffox coughed to cover his embarrassment. “I disagree.” He lifted his bowl to hers. “To your beautiful soup!” His cheer made Vantaiga tingle all over.
The two drifted into a silence that Vantaiga found awkward. This surprised her. She normally enjoyed silence and her own thoughts. What surprised her even more was she wanted to know of this new stranger’s thoughts. She suppressed a chuckle to herself. She had become so accustomed to knowing the thoughts of the plants and animals around her she had almost forgotten that people had to engage in something called a ‘conversation’. She decided to give it some practice. Besides, she liked the sound of his soft voice.
She pulled her focus back to the table. She found she was watching his hands as he dipped a hunk of bread in his bowl. They were worn hands but not rough labourer’s hands and cleaner than most, she thought. Riding a horse all day probably helped with that.
She shifted up to find he was looking at her with his disarmingly pleasant smile. It made her smile. She had forgotten she liked to smile. Did he always smile? She thought of how it would be nice to smile more.
No! Conversation! She wanted to have a conversation!
Vantaiga forced herself to abruptly break the silence. “So… you have travelled.”
Syffox was startled by her words and realised he was staring. He returned to dipping his bread while he replied, “Yes, through many of the lands. I’ve even ventured into the Desert Ocean a few times.”
“Oh really?! Any great adventures out there?”
Syffox shrugged. “Not a adventure but an adventure. I travelled with some friends in those days. We were hired by a sheikh to find his future daughter-in-law who’d been kidnapped just before the wedding.”
Vantaiga raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Oh, you went to save the princess? I think I heard of this adventure when I was a child.”
Syffox laughed. “The one where an ifrit and a jinn battle so a young man can marry his true love?” He shook his head as he swallowed his dripping bread. “That’s not this story. Turns out little miss bride-to-be got together with some cult leader to fake her kidnapping and rob the sheikh. She then betrayed the cult to a bunch of slavers so she could take everything. We eventually found her with a nearby warlord. The two were plotting with her future brother-in-law to overthrow the sheikh.”
Vantaiga laughed. “That doesn’t sound like much of a fairytale. What did you tell the sheikh about his damsel in distress?”
Syffox replied incredulously. “Are you kidding me? We were in the Middle-of-Nowhere Desert with a power-mad princess on one side, an angry sheikh on the other, and slavers and cultists killing each other in the streets. We got the hell out of there before we became another bunch of her victims.”
“Oh, but if you had only saved her, then she would have offered you her hand.”
Syffox shook his head. “Not that one. She only offered daggers through the heart. Besides, we didn’t have nearly enough money for her to be interested in any of us.”
“Oh? Not a lot of money in the adventuring business?”
“No. Just a lot of risking of necks on fools’ errands.”
Vantaiga teased him some more. “So, being a messenger is much better?”
Syffox chuckled. “Well, there are not as many people out to get you. And besides, they not only gave me money but a horse as well. I think that’s the best payment I’ve ever had.” Syffox looked down at his empty bowl. “Speaking of which, I should tend to my horse. She’s had a long day.”
Vantaiga perked up. “By all means. There is a bucket by the cistern and hay and grain by the pens.”
Syffox rose from the table. “Thank you, Mistress Vantaiga, for the meal.” He bowed his head. “It was almost as wonderful as the company.”
