The Barbarian's Owned(21)
Instead, she felt a weird relief that she could sleep nestled against him and then take the energy gathered from a restful night’s sleep and channel it into fresh outrage come morning.
Chapter Eight
Near dawn, Rae slithered from Garr’s hold and dressed. Her clothes had dried, but she had to put on air-dried socks. It didn’t take long for her to get used to the stiff crustiness that always afflicted them, but there was still nothing worse than pulling on an air-dried sock in the morning. Very few days could move uphill from that state of affairs.
Breakfast was a few scant bites of fruit and a semi-sweet green tuber that might have been good on a salad. Rae, however, would have probably murdered a man for hot, black coffee and a Danish.
Shortly into their march, they arrived at the border between Lyr and Kaython, which was divided by a crag wall that bristled with razor vines. They took an underground passage between them, lit by bioluminescent fungus.
Every step of the way, Rae could feel her home getting farther away from her. Strange how something on the other side of the galaxy could feel so much more distant from just walking two hundred feet.
In Kaython’s territory, Vaya and Garr visibly relaxed, and a curious sense of safety also overcame Rae. Were Kaython’s microbes communicating a feeling of protection? The sensation was akin to finally sealing herself into her apartment after an arduous trip—yet the open, grassy terrain was utterly unfamiliar to Rae. How could she possibly feel like she was “coming home” to a place she’d never been before?
While Vaya explained most of Kaython was also forested, this particular region was a meadowland filled with long grass that tickled Rae’s legs and bare ankles. Bright flowers brushed pollen on her skin and shimmering-winged insects danced between the flowers.
It took another day of travel and they ate at a brook full of submerged mollusks the size of her fist. Baked over a heated squama plate, they tasted like clams—and though Rae hated clams, she was so hungry that she didn’t mind the rubbery consistency.
Their unobstructed view of Ythir’s skies during the day proved that those rings never quite disappeared. She surmised based on their angle relative to the rings and the temperate atmosphere that they were midway between the planet’s equator and one of its poles.
The yellow sun never moved behind the rings, and Rae—creating a model of orbits in her head—concluded it was summer or spring. Near dusk, when the sun tilted toward the far horizon, it caught the ring in a way that made it shimmer like blue steel.
Their journey led to a valley with a mighty river cleaving through it. A forest bordered the valley’s far side, and a waterfall fed the river. It broke apart into three streams at the height of the rocky bluffs, each stream dropping two hundred feet and the water turned soft and misty as it struck the basin.
At the river’s first major bend, there grew a tree thicker than two cars parked end-to-end, crowning branches forming cradles at every elevation.
Structures were built into the enormous tree and, as they neared, she realized the whole tree was likewise sheathed in a cylinder of glass like a greenhouse. The entire tree was indoors, and there were floors built up its trunk like the levels of a lighthouse.
“Is this the tree house you mentioned?” she asked Garr. He still scared the hell out of her, but his relative silence on the trip had allowed her time to adjust to his simple presence.
“It’s the nearest lodge to Lyr’s borders. Also: a common destination for recently mated pairs spending their first lunar cycle together.”
Rae scowled. “We are not on our honeymoon.”
“If it comforts you, we won’t be alone. Sylla, my maidservant, wasn’t qualified to traverse Lyr. She’s staying inside.” He gestured to the tree house. “There’s also food, a warm bed, and a shower.”
She wanted to fight him on it, but Rae’s feet were sore—ravaged from hiking two days, much of it with wet shoes. She didn’t even want to know what was beneath her disgusting socks. “How many beds?” she asked, suspicious.
Garr didn’t answer, but led them across the meadow toward the tree, which loomed ever larger. Stairs connected the many individual floors that ringed the tree.
Each floor was partitioned into rooms—though nearly all stretched back to the tree’s trunk, so that in any room of the house there were massive windows making up the circular outer wall.
There was a circular door at ground level and, inside, a foyer with chairs and tables made from wood, carved marble, and soft padding.
Easing off her feet, Rae let out a groan of satisfaction. The burning of blisters and sores eased off, and she suddenly doubted her ability to stand again.