The Destiny Detour

Distractions

Rosaliy

Rosaliy was consumed with the weight of her task and the frustration of wasting time on travel, so she was completely flummoxed when Drake broke into her incoherent, half-formed, panicky thoughts with an attempt at conversation.

"Have you ever been to Taragon?"

"Why do you ask?" Rosaliy said in a rush, the mention of Taragon reminding her of the malevolent book in her bag. "I mean, yes, a few times. What makes you mention Taragon?"

She earned an askance glance for her awkward answer. "The Ascleon Mountains, I guess." He waved at the towering, spiky mountains they were heading straight toward. "The fact that we're passing right by Taragon. I've never traveled Kazakoth Pass."

Good point.

"Oh, that Taragon." The words slipped out before she recovered and shifted the conversation. "Not many people have gotten to see the Kazakoth Pass bridge. Queen Katyrinna created the base of it with magic thirteen years ago."

He let her get away with the worst subject avoidance of all time, which she appreciated.

"A magical bridge? Is that safe?"

"Totally safe, but you can walk on the non-magical parts if it makes you feel better."

He was suitably impressed by the bridge upon arrival.

"I've never seen anything like it," Drake marveled, peering down the glass porthole rimmed with bone into the black chasm beneath.

The Naxturaen soldiers had rebuilt it from marble hauled in from a nearby quarry. It was wide and white and streaked with pink and glittering dark streaks that sparkled in the sun. The base was made up of an artistic mish-mash of wood and metal and glass and bone, all fused together in chunks.

"It's the one interesting thing on the trip, I'm afraid. From here out, it's all rolling hills and occasional trees until the outpost."

She wished she was exaggerating, but Corin had not been not wrong about the journey between Crystal Palace and Kianne. It was normally a dull trip, but strangely, Drake seemed more relaxed in the open space, downright conversational. Well, at least he was excellent at keeping her chattering about things that made the time pass. She still learned next to nothing about him, beyond the fact that his inscrutable half grins were growing on her. She even tried to ask Drake how he knew Matias, but somehow she ended up telling a story about a three day search for a chicken who had inexplicably scaled a tree. They only found the feathered pest when an egg toppled straight onto her brother's head.

By late afternoon, they reached an outpost with basic supplies manned by a friendly couple who kept up an inn and a store.

"Rose," exclaimed Emilia, attacking her with a hug as soon as she stepped through the wooden gate of the wall offering basic protection to the few buildings inside. Emilia was a tiny, gray-haired woman who could fill a room with her personality. "You and your friend must join us for dinner."

The words sounded like a request, but they weren't.

"You'll need a warm meal after that long trip," Emilia insisted, half ripping off their cloaks by force and prodding them toward her own house. Being Emilia's guest or her casual prisoner was a fine line. Skipping the family dinner was not an option.

Her husband, Arin, arrived to relieve them of their bags and tuck their horses into a cozy barn. Rosaliy and Drake were seated around a little table in a warm cottage as fast as Emilia could shove them into chairs. She juggled place settings around them and made steaming mugs full of spiced tea appear.