Read Online The Language of Souls by Lena Goldfinch - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lena Goldfinch
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“Because I can’t do what my father asks.”
“Your father?”
“The master of the army.”
Solena blinked in surprise. “That man was your father? But—but you’re nothing like him.”
Rundan winced. It was just a fleeting expression, but she caught it and looked away, realizing she’ d poked into an unhealed wound.
“No. That’s true. I’m not like any of my people,” he said matter-of-factly. “None of my father’s soldiers would have been swayed by all you’ve done. They’d still deliver you to the palace.” He paused and looked at her with those thoughtful pale bl ue eyes of his. “But I cannot.”
Solena stared back, still trying to sort through his words. Surely she’d misunderstood him. But, no, she was very much alert and the young man sitting before her could speak the ancient tongue just as clearly as Grandpeer could. “So you’ll let me return to my people?” she asked.
“Yes. We will leave when I’m strong enough.”
We will leave.
His words brought a happy little swirl of pleasure, but Solena bit back her smile and ruthlessly squashed any desire to keep him with her longer. Though she’d love his company on the trek home, she couldn’t ask it of him.
“I can make the journey alone,” she insisted, not entirely sure this was true. “You must return to your father. He’ll worry.”
“He won’t worry.” Rundan’s mouth twisted into a sad half-smile that struck her like a blow to the chest. “And there’s no use arguing. I’m going with you.”
Solena brought the tips of her fingers to her mouth, a Torrani gesture of gratitude that she hoped he’d understand.
“My name is Rundan,” he told her quietly. It must have been a trick of the fire, but Solena could have sworn his face was suddenly flushed, as if he’d run a great distance.
She didn’t tell him she already knew his name, but simply nodded and repeated it for him. “And I am Solena.”
“Solena.” The way he said her name was a little odd, with none of the singsong music of her native Torrani. His words were more clipped, as if he had to carefully pronounce each syllable.
Solena tilted her head and smiled at him, trying to decide what it was about him that she found so appealing. He was still the same young soldier who’d captured her in the fruit grove, except his face was a little thinner now, from the weight he’d lost to fever. His hair was the same color of snow, only now she could see the shade was a bit warmer, more like the pale sands of Torrani’s shores. His eyes were as pale and blue as the other soldiers’ in camp had been, but in Rundan’s eyes she saw a thoughtful cast, as if he worried too much.
She paused for a moment to wonder if her eyes revealed her own worries....
The thought brought a sharp reminder of her purpose and she whispered a silent plea for Grandpeer’s life before asking, “I need wild tymia. Can you help me find it?”
Rundan hesitated. “I know a place. We could go, but we’d need to keep well away from my father’s camp....”
“And?”
“And there may still be soldiers about.”
From the hint of wariness in his face, she knew he was thinking of one soldier in particular. The soldier who’d attacked her hadn't come back to exact his revenge, but then perhaps he hadn’t been able to find their cave. They’d be more vulnerable traveling about in the open.
“ My grandfather is dying...and he’s all I have.” Her throat closed up and she lifted one shoulder in mute appeal.
Rundan stared back at her for what seemed like a n eternity before he answered. “I’ll take you,” he said, “as soon as I can, but we’ll have to go at night.”
This time she couldn’ t stop a quick smile of relief from spreading across her face. Now if only she could make it home in time. If it wasn’t already too late. She prayed it wasn’t.
Over the next few days, Rundan regained his strength quickly. Though he knew he didn’t have the stamina
“Your father?”
“The master of the army.”
Solena blinked in surprise. “That man was your father? But—but you’re nothing like him.”
Rundan winced. It was just a fleeting expression, but she caught it and looked away, realizing she’ d poked into an unhealed wound.
“No. That’s true. I’m not like any of my people,” he said matter-of-factly. “None of my father’s soldiers would have been swayed by all you’ve done. They’d still deliver you to the palace.” He paused and looked at her with those thoughtful pale bl ue eyes of his. “But I cannot.”
Solena stared back, still trying to sort through his words. Surely she’d misunderstood him. But, no, she was very much alert and the young man sitting before her could speak the ancient tongue just as clearly as Grandpeer could. “So you’ll let me return to my people?” she asked.
“Yes. We will leave when I’m strong enough.”
We will leave.
His words brought a happy little swirl of pleasure, but Solena bit back her smile and ruthlessly squashed any desire to keep him with her longer. Though she’d love his company on the trek home, she couldn’t ask it of him.
“I can make the journey alone,” she insisted, not entirely sure this was true. “You must return to your father. He’ll worry.”
“He won’t worry.” Rundan’s mouth twisted into a sad half-smile that struck her like a blow to the chest. “And there’s no use arguing. I’m going with you.”
Solena brought the tips of her fingers to her mouth, a Torrani gesture of gratitude that she hoped he’d understand.
“My name is Rundan,” he told her quietly. It must have been a trick of the fire, but Solena could have sworn his face was suddenly flushed, as if he’d run a great distance.
She didn’t tell him she already knew his name, but simply nodded and repeated it for him. “And I am Solena.”
“Solena.” The way he said her name was a little odd, with none of the singsong music of her native Torrani. His words were more clipped, as if he had to carefully pronounce each syllable.
Solena tilted her head and smiled at him, trying to decide what it was about him that she found so appealing. He was still the same young soldier who’d captured her in the fruit grove, except his face was a little thinner now, from the weight he’d lost to fever. His hair was the same color of snow, only now she could see the shade was a bit warmer, more like the pale sands of Torrani’s shores. His eyes were as pale and blue as the other soldiers’ in camp had been, but in Rundan’s eyes she saw a thoughtful cast, as if he worried too much.
She paused for a moment to wonder if her eyes revealed her own worries....
The thought brought a sharp reminder of her purpose and she whispered a silent plea for Grandpeer’s life before asking, “I need wild tymia. Can you help me find it?”
Rundan hesitated. “I know a place. We could go, but we’d need to keep well away from my father’s camp....”
“And?”
“And there may still be soldiers about.”
From the hint of wariness in his face, she knew he was thinking of one soldier in particular. The soldier who’d attacked her hadn't come back to exact his revenge, but then perhaps he hadn’t been able to find their cave. They’d be more vulnerable traveling about in the open.
“ My grandfather is dying...and he’s all I have.” Her throat closed up and she lifted one shoulder in mute appeal.
Rundan stared back at her for what seemed like a n eternity before he answered. “I’ll take you,” he said, “as soon as I can, but we’ll have to go at night.”
This time she couldn’ t stop a quick smile of relief from spreading across her face. Now if only she could make it home in time. If it wasn’t already too late. She prayed it wasn’t.
Over the next few days, Rundan regained his strength quickly. Though he knew he didn’t have the stamina
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