Isao hesitated. Celty held her breath.
Khalem frowned. "That is not important."
Ranbelt lifted his eyebrows. "Ah. I see. You don't want to tell me all the details of what is happening at the Imperial City. Is An Wan falling apart, then? Why else would a Prince and his General travel alone in wild lands such as these?"
"No," Khalem said. "I don't wish to tell you."
"Khalem," Isao started, "I – "
"My young Sheng," Khalem interrupted, "I know you like many people, but we cannot trust everyone we meet. The world is filled with masks. Very few people reveal who they truly are. We cannot trust them when our mission has such great purpose. We must move forward of our own accord."
"Your General speaks about life," Ranbelt said, unusually serious. "He sees it in black or white. But look around you, Prince. How many colors do you see?"
Khalem glowered at him, but Ranbelt just grinned back at him.
"Many," Isao murmured.
"Precisely,” Ranbelt responded. “Life is full of color. It abounds with shadows and hues and tones. Everyone has different shades to their personalities, and it's what makes us so different. Imagine if we only lived in black and white – but actually, we couldn't. Even then we would see shades of gray everywhere. Life is a colorful prism. You should want to see as many colors as you possibly can."
"Then how do you describe liars?" Celty asked, sending a sharp gaze at Ranbelt. "What about them? You accuse General Khalem of seeing in black and white, as if you are so pure yourself. I think liars are simply afraid. They're scared of something."
"Maybe an ugly truth," Ranbelt said. "One they don't want to reveal."
"Weak," she hissed. "If one can't face the truth, one can't face many things."
"Maybe they're just clever, knowing which truths to hold and which to betray, tiger girl."
"So you admit to being a liar?" Khalem asked.
"Cunningness is different than lying, unsmiling man. Would you be alive without my fast mind?"
Khalem pressed his lips into a thin line, and said nothing.
"That's what I thought you'd say," Ranbelt drawled. "And who are you to call me a liar? You who lied about his son and his – " His eyes flickered over to Celty. "Servant girl. By your plan, all of you would have died. I am the one who saved you."
"Stop it!" Isao commanded. "Khalem, I trust Ranbelt. He has indeed saved our lives. Perhaps the lives of many in that tribe as well. He will accompany us to Isan if he desires. And with my approval."
"Thank you, my Prince," Ranbelt said, inclining his head slightly. "Your wisdom will surely illuminate our path."
Khalem turned away, swallowing. Celty wondered if the defeat tasted bitter to him, Having to obey the young Prince without further question.
"And of course I will come with you!" Ranbelt sang, waving a hand in the air. "There are many more job opportunities for a minstrel in a big city like Havin. As such, I would suggest a quick shortcut."
"Oh?" Isao asked.
"If we cross the Okuna Glade, we'll find a clearing with free shelters. Hunters move around there often and leave them behind. We could camp there and rest."
"I don't like it," Khalem muttered grumpily. "But I admit you saved our lives and know this land better than we do. I am willing if the Prince is."
They continued on the path, only Ranbelt slipped to the front of their line, bellowing out a story about a wondering dog and a lost little boy he befriended. Despite his booming voice and somewhat wild personality, Celty enjoyed the distraction his stories created.
The air temperature grew warmer as the wound their way down the mountainside, and into the fertile valleys.
When a stretch of quiet had permeated the group for several minutes, Celty called to Ranbelt, "The Chief called you ‘One-Eyed.’ Why did she do that?"
Ranbelt whipped around, drawing his lock of hair back away from his eye. A scarred, misshapen lump sat beneath it. He opened the eye, revealing a milky substance beneath.
"Blind," he said, springing ahead on the trail with strange, yet graceful, movements. "I only use one eye."
"How did that happen?" Isao asked.
"It's a long story."
Ranbelt offered no more, and Celty did not ask.
By late afternoon, the sun sank toward the far horizon, and the temperature began to drop. An abundant array of trees sprawled out before the group, thick with green boughs and soft grasses. Ranbelt stopped near the edge of his glad, spreading his arms.
"The Glade of Okuna," he said. "Beautiful, isn't she? So lush."
Isao and Khalem both stopped to drink in the picturesque sight. Celty kept her eyes trained on Ranbelt, who wrinkled his brow. A troubled expression flashed across his eyes, leading into a quick frown. He glanced behind them, far up the mountain from where they'd come, then caught Celty's gaze. A smile appeared on his face instantly.
"Come! Let's go find some shelter."
Within ten minutes, they'd found a rickety wooden shelter tucked far into the glade, away from the prying eyes any who might come in off the mountain, although Celty suspected that few people would venture this way, as they had. Still, she felt safer without the eyes of others upon them.
"Water," Khalem said, overturning his empty water pouch. "We need to refill."
Celty tilted her head back, and drew in a deep breath of air. She pointed to the west. "Try that way."
Khalem lifted one eyebrow, but listened to her. He moved quietly through the thick undergrowth with several of their empty water pouches in hand. When he returned, they were full. He eyed her, but said nothing.
"Thank you, Khalem," Isao murmured, accepting a pouch. "This will be very refreshing."
Ranbelt, who also had disappeared, returned with three dead hares in his hand. He held them by their ears. "Dinner!"
Celty's stomach growled; she was ravenous due to the long trek. She leapt to her feet, ducking back into the shelter to clear a circle. "I will start the fire."
That evening, a fire crackled as fat dripped off one of the skinned hares and sizzled on the logs below. Celty's stomach was full of meat, and Ranbelt sang softly now. They'd already eaten all the greens and dried meat given to the group by the Chief, and each greedily ate their next portion of meat as soon as it finished cooking.
Celty, satiated at last, fell into thought while staring at the fire. She thought of Rhaeneis’s eyes and hair. Those words that she murmured that seemed to have set fire to Celty's chest like a hot coal. All the questions she suppressed during the walk came rising back into her mind.
Who was she? What would be in the archipelago? Where there others like her? Did she have a family after all?
She allowed herself a luxury– imagining these things could be. She thought of meeting other women like her. Being accepted. Knowing who she was, and why she had been made a slave. Something peaceful settled into her chest.
"Have you ever heard of Mahel Island?" Ranbelt asked her.
Celty jerked back into the present with a shake of her head. "What?"
"Mahel Island. The one Rhaeneis spoke of."
"No."
He waved a hand. "I've heard something of it in all my many travels. Mostly vague information."
"Tell me what you know."
"It's an ancient island, I believe. Somewhere in the far west. They say it's inhabited by monstrous creatures. Terrifying ones, really. Sea serpents. Sea worms. Monsters on both land and sea." He shuddered. "Frightening."
She scowled. "I need some air."
She left the shelter, stepping into the trees. Fresh air cooled her cheeks, smelling like honeysuckle and water. She closed her eyes, pulling in a deep breath. She thought of Rhaeneis. Of Isao. The Imperial City on fire.
She thought of Goro and Jin, of the life she left behind. The freedom of the wild world.
She thought of monsters. Islands. Women just like her.
For a moment, she thought she felt the beat of a drum in her chest again.
Celty strode inside the shelter, and announced, "Tomorrow, I'm leaving the group. I'm going back to where I belong."
Hadjia