Lily of the Desert (Silver and Orchids Book 4) Read online

  “I miss you,” I say quietly, rubbing his neck.

  He angles back, groaning softly as I work the tense muscles. “I know.”

  “Can we walk to Malka? This waiting will drive me mad.”

  “It wouldn’t be wise to leave our water source, not when caravans pass through here on a regular basis.”

  “So cautious,” I murmur as I lean down to kiss him. “Very unpiratelike.”

  He chuckles and deepens the kiss. We’re in no hurry, have nowhere to be, and we might have found the only pleasant spot in the entire kingdom. The creek bubbles over the ledge, and a cool breeze passes through the leaves overhead.

  “Lucia,” he says as his lips stray to my neck.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Do you plan to stay in business with Sebastian once we return to Kalae?”

  I pull away and look at him. “We haven’t talked about it, but I don’t know how it would be possible when we’ll be at sea so often.”

  He winds a loose strand of my hair around his finger. “Won’t you miss it?”

  “Oh, yes.” I give him a pointed look. “I love finding myself stranded in the middle of a kingdom that has made it known several times it doesn’t want me here.”

  “I want to be a partner.”

  It takes me several moments to process what he said. “Avery?”

  “I want in on the business, officially. Believe it or not, I bring a lot to the table.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “Did you know I have a ship?”

  “I heard that somewhere.” I straddle him, getting closer. “Do you really want this? Or are you doing it for me?”

  “Yes—to both.”

  “I see how it is,” I say, teasing him to cover up the fact that my insides are all warm and squishy, and I’m in dangerous territory of saying something sappy. “You only married me so you’d have an in.”

  “Naturally,” he says in a mock serious voice as he pulls me closer and nibbles behind my ear. “Now enough talking.”

  ***

  “So, we arrive at the port, and Yancey’s there, looking like a blacksmith, acting all important,” I say to Esme. “Anyway, Flink, who hadn’t settled on his element yet, hiccupped a tiny, harmless flame, and Yancey went ballistic.”

  Esme’s laughing, but Yancey scowls. “I don’t look like a blacksmith.”

  “You do,” Esme says, swatting one of Yancey’s beefy arms.

  “Anyway, he’s talking big to Sebastian, and I’m trying to convince Sebastian to back down—”

  “Riders,” Adeline says softly.

  I turn to her, not sure I heard her right. “What?”

  “Riders,” she says again, this time louder. Her gaze is fixed in the distance, and she leaps to her feet, dropping her embroidery in the sand. “Look!”

  Story forgotten, I follow her. And she’s right. It’s a medium-sized group, not large enough to be a caravan, and they have no carts.

  Adeline waves her hands frantically, trying to get their attention. Gorin rushes over, attempting to stop her. “Adeline, don’t! We don’t know anything about them.”

  “What do we need to know?” Adeline demands. “We’ve been stuck here for four days—four days, Gorin!”

  Whether Gorin thinks it’s a good idea or not, the riders see us. They change direction, coming our way. Their horses are magnificent—black and glossy with proud heads and high tails. They know it too; the silly creatures prance like they are from the king’s personal stables.

  But when they get closer, I realize the group’s leader is familiar—he’s the man I met in the streets of Stali.

  Akello spots me shortly after I see him, and his eyes widen with surprise. “Lady Lucia?”

  He swings down from his horse and nods to the rest of the group. Recognizing him as well, Sebastian crosses his arms.

  “I’d say fancy meeting you here and ask how you’re doing, but from the general windblown, desert-beaten look of the lot of you, I think it’s safe to assume you’ve been better,” Akello says.

  And though I don’t want to, I admit, “Our mules and donkeys were stolen several nights ago.”

  He nods, looking genuinely concerned but not all that surprised. “I’ve heard bandits have been spotted in these parts. They robbed a caravan not two days from here.”

  I don’t think we’re dealing with common bandits, but I see no reason to voice my thoughts out loud. It’s clear that someone is trying to keep us from the lily.

  “Thankfully we stumbled on you,” Akello continues. “We don’t have extra horses, but Malka isn’t far.” He turns to his men. “Would any of you be willing to stay here for the night so our new friends can ride to the city?”

  Sebastian doesn’t look impressed with the “new friends” statement, but we are at their mercy, and he knows it.

  Several men volunteer, and we break camp. My new temporary ride is far taller than my little donkey, and Avery has to give me a boost up.

  “I see the captain has returned after all,” Akello says, eying Avery.

  “And we’re married,” I tell him sweetly, adding a tiny barb to my words.

  He smiles knowingly. “Congratulations.”

  I eye him for half a moment and then nudge my horse forward.

  “New friend?” Avery asks quietly as we ride side by side.

  “I don’t trust him.” I keep my voice low, not wanting Akello or any of his men to overhear me.

  Avery nods and drops the subject.

  We arrive in Malka well after dark, but the city is alight.

  “City of lanterns,” Akello says to us as we reach the huge, stone bridge that crosses the wide, lazy river and leads us into a residential district.

  Malka is true to its moniker. Decorative lanterns hang from every balcony, every signpost, every tree. There are simple lanterns and spherical works of art—lanterns of iron and copper and bronze. Fat, white pillar candles burn in every single one.

  I openly gawk, unable to look away. Unlike the other cities we’ve seen in Elrija, Malka’s buildings are primarily built of ivory stone, accented with massive, dark, wooden beams.

  Boats with ridged fanlike sails glide along the river below us, and people call to each other from the nearby bank. Even at this late hour, the city is bustling. People cross the bridge, heading to the agricultural district just outside the city, and others linger, watching the water.

  It takes several minutes to cross the bridge; the sleepy river is that wide. It will be a sight to see in the morning.

  “The caravanserai is nearby,” Akello says. “Or there are small inns and taverns scattered about the districts.

  Sebastian nods. “The caravanserai will be fine.”

  We end up in front of a building that’s easily as grand as the one we stayed in our first few nights in Elrija. Where Stali’s caravanserai had the large, shallow pool, Malka has winding gardens, lit with even more lanterns. There’s a bubbling fountain near the entrance, built to look like a waterfall. The effect is that of an oasis in the desert. Several caravans are set up at the edges, and even at this late hour, people are doing business.

  “I suppose this is where we part ways,” Akello says, after the attendants fetch our trunks and baggage.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Sebastian says.

  No matter how we got here, it’s a relief to be back in civilization.

  “You are most welcome. I will be in Malka for several weeks.” He meets my eyes. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

  With that, Akello and the few men who joined him ride back into the streets, leading the extra horses with them. It’s quite the sight, and people stop to gawk at the parade of midnight creatures. I watch them go, frowning. Akello was nothing but kind and helpful, but I cannot shake my first impression.

  “Why the pensive face?” Avery asks.

  I turn to the captain. “I’ve learned from experience that sometimes when people rescue you, they actually want to tag along and steal your orchids.”<
br />
  Avery gives me a wry smile. “You mean lily, I believe.”

  “It was odd he showed up, wasn’t it?” I say, ignoring him.

  Avery shrugs. “Honestly, Lucia. I have no idea. Sometimes, things are just a coincidence, and I for one am glad to be out of the desert.”

  I take a deep breath of the sweet flower-scented air and close my eyes. “I am as well.”

  “Do you know the very first thing I want to do once we get our rooms?” he asks, suggestively letting his finger wander down my arm.

  I laugh. “Clean up?”

  He grins. “You know me too well. I’m going straight to the bathhouse to soak for hours. If you’re lucky, I’ll be back before morning.”

  “Oh, you’ll be back long before that.”

  The captain raises an eyebrow and steps closer. “Is that right?”

  I give him a promising smile and hurry after the others.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Surely Not

  The healer frowns with his hand hovering over my stomach. A faint bluish glow of magic radiates from his palm. After several moments, he nods and steps back.

  “Well?” I demand.

  We’ve been in Malka for two weeks now, trying to track down the city which seems to have never existed, and my stomach problems are getting worse. I’ve managed to keep it from Avery so far, but I know it’s going to be an impossible task soon. I’m hoping that whatever this is, the physician can refer me to an apothecary, and I’ll put all this behind me.

  “You’re very healthy,” he says as he offers his hand, helping me rise to a sitting position on his table. “I’m going to refer you to a midwife I often work with. She can recommend a tincture for your nausea.”

  I stare at him for several long moments. “A midwife?”

  “Yes, congratulations, Lucia. I believe you’re about eight weeks pregnant.”

  A slightly horrified laugh bubbles up in my throat, but then my mind whirls madly with calculations. He must be wrong. “I’m sorry, but that can’t be. I’ve only been married six, and I assure you nothing tawdry happened before the ceremony.”

  Not that tawdry anyway.

  It’s obvious the man is trying not to laugh. “It’s all a matter of how we calculate cycles and—”

  I hold up my hand. “Never mind. I believe you.”

  Feeling on the edge of hysteria, I take a long, deep breath and dig my fingers into the edge of the table. It had to have happened in Stali. How does a person fall pregnant the first night?

  How?

  I half listen as he gives me directions to the midwife’s shoppe. After paying the woman at the front counter, I walk numbly through the streets. It’s mid-afternoon, and the chatter of the huge flocks of seabirds on the riverbank can be heard all the way in the middle of the city. It’s busy today, and the walkways are crowded.

  Somehow, I manage to locate the midwife’s shoppe and I stare at it for several moments before I abruptly turn on my heel and walk back to the caravanserai. Avery, Sebastian, and Gorin spoke of going to the library again this afternoon. If I’m lucky, Adeline will have stayed behind.

  I knock on her door. When she doesn’t answer in the next two seconds, I knock again…and again and again.

  Finally, her door flies open, and she stands on the other side, looking flustered. “Lucia! For goodness sake—what’s the matter with you?”

  I push her into the room and pull the door shut. As an afterthought, I lock it for good measure and then finally turn around.

  “What happened?” Then, remembering where I told her I was sneaking off to this morning, she demands, “What did the doctor say? Are you all right?”

  “No.”

  Her eyes widen with concern. “Lucia—”

  “He said I’m pregnant!”

  She flinches at the direct term, but then she purses her lips, trying not to smile.

  “Adeline!”

  “It’s just that…” She starts to laugh, unable to stop herself. “I thought you had come down with some wasting disease from the look on your face.”

  I glare at her.

  Realizing that I’m as rattled as I am, she sighs. “How far along are you?”

  “Eight weeks.”

  “And you didn’t notice?” she asks, incredulous.

  “I’ve been a little busy, tracking down maps and facing wraiths and getting stranded in the desert,” I hiss.

  She sighs, sympathetic, but there’s something about the look in her eyes…

  I suck in a sharp breath and point an accusing finger at her. “You’re giddy about this! You’re already planning tiny wardrobes and bonnets and…”

  Pressing a hand to my stomach, I sit, feeling ill.

  I am not nearly mature enough to have a baby. I can barely take care of Flink. What if it grows up the same way? What if my mothering skills are so below par, that everything I raise ends up being a wretched, unruly beast?

  “I believe it’s normal that you’re a little disconcerted,” Adeline says in her best, soothing voice, “but once you tell the captain, you’ll begin to feel better.”

  “Do I have to?”

  Adeline sits across from me, looking baffled. “Have to what?”

  “Tell Avery?”

  She raises a perfect brow. “Even if you don’t, he’s going to figure it out soon enough.”

  And suddenly, the unbidden image of me waddling through the desert like a bloated cow, running from a mess of cobras, leaps into my mind.

  “Adeline, how am I going to finish the expedition?” I ask, snapping out of my melodramatic fit. Completely serious, I sit up. “I can’t go running into wraiths like this.”

  She nibbles her lip, thinking. “I’m sure Avery would take you back to Kalae. The rest of us can stay and look for the lily.”

  “No.” I shake my head, determined. “I’ve never abandoned a job, and I owe this to Gorin. Besides, my mother was constantly pregnant while I was young, and she managed it.”

  “Running a farm might be slightly different than exploring ruins…”

  “I’m fine.” In this moment, I make up my mind. I am fine. I will be fine. Perhaps this expedition isn’t going exactly according to plan, but we’ve gotten past cobras and scorpions and life-sucking specters. I’m not going to let a little thing like a tiny human thwart it.

  ***

  “Are you all right?” Avery asks, studying my plate.

  “I’m fine.”

  And I am. I know because I tell myself repeatedly, several dozen times a day.

  His eyebrows shoot up, and he sits back. Then that irritatingly perfect smirk spreads across his face. “Are you sure about that? Because you aren’t eating—still.”

  I need to ask the midwife about that, but I haven’t worked up the nerve to visit her. My appetite is gone, and half the things I used to love—meat, coffee, fish—smell awful. And eggs? Just the thought makes me green around the edges.

  “I ate,” I argue.

  And I did—three bites of grouse and a roll. Half the problem is the spices. The very thing that made Elrijan food smell so delicious when we first arrived is what’s causing my stomach to churn now.

  “This has been going on for weeks.” He’s smiling, but he looks concerned. “Don’t you think it’s time you see a physician?”

  We’re in a small tavern off the river, sitting on a balcony that overlooks the water. We’re alone, which has been the nicest thing about staying in Malka. As a group, we scour for information on the village with the dragon bridge during the day and then go about our own business at night. Avery and I have had plenty of time alone, and it’s beginning to feel like we’re doing more than pretending we’re married.

  It’s also given me plenty of time to tell him about the baby situation. And yet, I haven’t.

  I set my napkin over my plate, letting the fabric block the offensive smells that insist on wafting in my general direction. “Avery, I need to speak with you.”

  Perhaps sensing the dr
ead in my expression, the captain abandons the rest of his dinner and lays his arms on the table, waiting for me to begin. He has an anxious look about him, as if he’s waiting for bad news.

  I look at the table. “I saw a physician a week ago.”

  “When?”

  “That doesn’t matter.” I wave the question away. “But he told me—”

  “It was the wraith, wasn’t it?” he breathes, leaning forward, his eyes intense with worry. “I knew something—”

  Unable to keep him in misery, I clench my eyes shut and cut him off, “We’re going to have a baby.”

  His silence is so loud, I peek my eyes open slowly, worried he might have passed out. I find him staring at me, a half-smile on his lips, his eyes narrowed. “Lucia? Are you serious?”

  I nod, almost ashamed, like I’ve done something wrong even though he certainly played his part. “It must have happened in Stali.”

  His smile is growing. “You don’t suppose it was our first night?”

  “If not, it must have been close to it.”

  I narrow my eyes as he leans forward with an expression that’s beginning to irk me. He gives me a wicked grin, raising his eyebrows, looking…something. It takes me several moments, but then I realize what it is—he’s proud of himself.

  Groaning, I toss my napkin at him.

  His smile falls. “You’re not happy?”

  “Happy? I’m terrified!”

  With a carefree expression that makes me envious, he tosses several coins on the table and offers me his hand. “It’s a nice evening. Let’s go for a walk.”

  I accept his arm, and we amble along the streets. There are several benches on the bridge that look out over the water, and Avery stops at the first one available.

  “How are you so calm about all this?” I demand as soon as we sit.

  An egret wades near the bank, his long legs in the water. I watch him for several moments before turning back to Avery.

  “I’m as nervous as you are.” He takes my hand and winds his fingers with mine. “But I know it’s going to be all right—better than all right. Perfect.”

  “You realize I can’t even bring up a dragon properly, don’t you?”

  He grins, shaking his head. “Lucia, a baby is not a dragon. And you’re forgetting something significant.”