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Outside Esdantenella, Isantad
Early sun
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Reide did not think it wise to have Andreya ride bareback on a horse to Feledir as he usually did, given how she had reacted to Calever's inn the night before. She had not seemed overly pleased with the change in outfit or hairstyle earlier that day, and the inn had not seemed to be to her liking, either, although, polite as she was, she had attempted to hide all traces of dissatisfaction. With her tastes, it was not surprising at all that she was a noble.

Still, Reide had taken an odd little liking to her and, if nothing else, was itching with curiosity over her inability to die. He had not yet seen any proof of her claims, but she was also much too passionate for it to be a farce. Besides, she did not seem the farcical type.

The cart hit a bump in the road and he nearly bit his tongue. He was staring up at the cloudy sky, arms behind his head and legs crossed on the back of a wagon headed northeast. He didn't usually make a habit of hitchhiking, but he had already invested more into this endeavor than he'd been planning, and Andreya didn't seem to mind it, anyhow. He looked beside him at said foreign noblewoman, curled up among the furs and pelts that filled the back of the wagon and understandably fast asleep.

A smile nipped at his lips. She was quite an interesting woman, he would give her that. A ball of contradictions, emotional but trying desperately to hide it, fearful but determined, quiet but demanding. As he watched her, his expression faded.

It was a shame she wanted so badly to die.

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"This is your stop, travelers."

Andreya lurched up, her hair tousled under her hood and her eyes half open. "My stop? Why am I stopping?"

She blinked several times when Reide snickered from beside her. It took a moment for the surroundings to make sense—furs between her fingers, afternoon sunlight at her back—but it wasn't hard then to remember how they'd come to be on a cart. Now they were just out from a town a little smaller than Esdantenella.

Reide helped her off the back of the cart and thanked the driver before pointing to the town. "This town is the last one before Feledir. Anything you would like to see?"

She yawned and patted the dust from her skirts. "Is there anything you would like to show me?"

He seemed to think about it for a moment before they both started down the path. "Do you ride horses at all?"

"As a child."

"Ah, but have you ever ridden an Isantadi horse?"

She furrowed her brows at his almost eager expression. "What am I to take that to mean?"

She was to take it to mean Isantadi riding horses made Nasavtean riding horses look like children's toys.

"They're trained to return to the stables after their travel," Reide explained as she gaped up at the line of shaggy, speckled beasts in the town's stable. "So when we reach Feledir, we won't need a return trip to take it back."

Then Andreya was forced to climb a four-step mounting stool and pull herself onto the monster's back, all the while calling back down to Reide and the stablehand with squeaky-toned concerns for safety. By the time she situated herself on the saddle blanket eight or nine feet above the ground, her companion appeared dwarfish with his folded arms and amused grin.

Said irritating companion took no longer than two breaths to swing his leg over and settle behind her.

She stared back at him with half the mind to strike him for making it seem so easy. In response, he thanked the stableboy and flashed her a smile she did not like at all.

Then he flicked the reigns.

The beast started forward and Andreya shrieked, clutching Reide's sleeve with white knuckles and darting her gaze about at second-story porches and townspeople short enough to be dolls, carriages whose roofs reached her knees and the stone street so dizzyingly far beneath them.

"There is no need to worry, Andreya"—she tensed at Reide's casualness—"these horses are the tamest animals in Isantad. They can't go very fast and wouldn't hurt a thing."

"Oh—" Andreya clamped her mouth shut before trying again, her heart lodged in her throat. "Your comforts are shallow. I may not be able to die, but I can feel every bit as much pain as you can, and I would really rather not—rather not place myself atop a living, moving tower, if I can help it."

He touched her arm and she yanked away, letting his sleeve go. He made her situation sound humorous. "It is a good thing you can't help it, then."

They passed the town gates and into hilly Isantadi countryside, the path on which they trod weaving through seemingly the entire world, and their journey continued in similar fashion for something near a half an hour before Reide pointed out the shape of a town on the horizon. A shape, he said, which resembled the very place they needed to be.

He dismounted the horse when they reached the gate, to Andreya's dismay, without any sort of ladder. Then he outstretched his arm toward her as if he might catch her from such a ludicrous height.

"Do you expect me to jump?" she scoffed.

"Why, no." He raised his brows. "You can stay up there, if you would like. But the horse is not going inside the gates."

Evil man. He clearly enjoyed watching her squirm. Andreya glanced once at the guard manning the gate, then to the town, and drew in a breath, scooting to the edge of the animal's back. If she broke a bone, it would heal. If she scraped herself, it would heal. If she stayed on the horse, she would be trapped. That would not heal.

She clenched her teeth and slid off the side of the furry beast, and in a fractional second of terror, Reide grabbed her around the waist and planted her on the ground, grinning as if proud of her accomplishment.

She swallowed her many curse words. "Thank you."

"It seems you can do anything," he said, and, irritatingly enough, didn't appear to be mocking her. She puffed up her skirts and shot him a wary side look.

"What goes, travelers?" the guard called.

"We're with the Court Hunting Guild," Reide said, and it was always that easy to get through. Andreya wondered as the guard waved them past exactly what kind of authority this guild had.

Feledir was not an unusual Isantadi town—too many people with a hustle and bustle, tall buildings with many rooms and no paint, old and new mixed together with pointed roofs and little flags on top. She allowed Reide to guide her through the streets and their pandemonium the same as he had for the past two days.

As she did, she arranged her skirts to hide her shaking ankles even still. Persistent questions flitted at the back of her mind as she followed along past shopfronts and sellers, wondering who it would be they would find among these many peoples who would answer her query.

How could she end this dance with Death? This internal war? All it needed was to know her and she could reach the place of her true belonging, where she had been purposed to go eighteen years ago and from which she had been cruelly denied.

She would get there even if it killed her. Preferably if it did kill her.

"Turn right here." Reide tugged her hand and she veered after him off the main street and down a much darker and thinner alley. After several minutes of near-vacant dirt paths, he slowed and bit the tip of his thumb. "Hmm. I could have sworn it was... aha! There."

She followed his outstretched point to a door on the side of one of the buildings they were sandwiched between, not any different for any reason from any of the other establishments. She cocked a brow as he jogged forward and knocked on the inconspicuous wooden door.

They waited.

"Hello!" Reide raised his voice. "What ho!"

Andreya cast him a glance. "Who exactly are you hoping to find in this place—"

She startled when a shout responded from inside the plain building. Mere seconds later, the door flung open to reveal a man whose top hairs would barely touch Andreya's shoulders and whose mustache said enough about his twisted up frown that she needn't see the rest of him. He fashioned a blue turban and a judgmental brow and Reide grabbed her arm before she could dart.

"Mister Omula Sabar?" Reide guessed.

Andreya had never heard the name, but apparently, the man in the doorway had. His frown deepened to the point of fatuity.

"What business do you have with Sabar?" said he.

"I have a question for him concerning my friend, Miss Dreya." Reide patted Andreya's shoulder and she stiffened.

For several moments, both men stared at each other so intently they almost appeared frozen, and the short man's eyes narrowed to little slits just when Andreya thought he couldn't appear any more wary. She would have laughed had she thought it the least bit funny.

"And money," Reide added. "I have some of that, too."

The man straightened immediately and widened the door for them. "Lucky for you, Sabar just got an opening."

Andreya blanked. "What?"

But Reide was already nudging her past the little man and the poorly sanded doorframe and into the dark room beyond.

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Ni hao, night owls! (Unless you're an early bird, at which point we are no longer the same species, please leave—jk jk.) What do you make of this Omula Sabar? Any predictions, thoughts, critiques? Let me know in the comments and don't forget to vote if you enjoyed this chapter!