The next day the entire group except Evariel seemed perfectly calm once more.
Jolette eyed Saryana from the corner of her eye, but not once could she tell if her composure was real or a mask. Aithal, too, seemed more at ease, and in his case she believed it was genuine. It wasn't that he had suddenly stopped grieving or being afraid, but it was clear that he felt at home in this country, and that alone seemed to comfort him.
"We are now in the very northeastern corner of Jadiria," he informed the others as Saryana led the way, visibly familiar with every road and turn. "A lot of Elodians live in these parts. I myself grew up in this area once."
Jolette eyed him with curiosity. "Elodians in Jadiria?"
"Yes. This country is only one country on the outside," Aithal explained. "There is a reason why we call it the League of Jadiria. In reality it is a collection of many smaller states, peoples and cultures, but they act as one in all outward matters."
"It's why Aithal and I talk in Common," Saryana remarked from the front. "There is no Jadirian language. We don't speak each other's first languages very well."
Aithal glanced over his shoulder at Evariel, as if expecting him to comment. The elf, however, remained silent. There was nothing indicating he had listened at all.
"Do the South-Elves not live near here?" Aithal continued, still staring pointedly at Evariel. "At the very south-end of the mountains, if I remember correctly."
Evariel made no response. His eyes were blank.
Zamrod, who was walking beside him, grunted and nudged him in the ribs.
"Don't space out," he muttered. "He's talking to you, pointy-ears."
With a visible jolt Evariel snapped to attention. "What? I mean...I'm listening!"
"The South-Elves," Aithal repeated. "They are just north from here, aren't they?"
"The...? Oh, yeah, I guess." Evariel forced a grin. "If they haven't run from each other yet, anyway. In the north we say not even the South-Elves can stand their own hick accent."
Aithal snorted. "Funny how the South-Elves say the same about your people."
"That's objectively wrong. We speak right, they speak funny." Evariel made a grand gesture. "They're only jealous because we can open our mouth without sounding like complete hillbillies."
Edmian frowned in visible confusion. "So the North-Elves and the South-Elves don't like each other?"
Aithal laughed out loud. "Oh, they're the best of friends," he replied. "But they feel a compulsive need to make fun of each other at every chance they get."
Edmian furrowed his brow, as if trying to comprehend this particular kind of friendship. Jolette promptly found herself wondering if he had ever heard of, let alone witnessed this friendly kind of hostility. It was a good thing, she thought, that she had never tried to tease him.
There was a lull in the conversation, and Evariel's eyes became dull again. He moved mechanically, tirelessly, but several times he almost tripped over roots and stones or walked face-first into trees. When asked about it he put on a fake smile, made a joke, and immediately spaced out again.
At long last Jolette got fed up. Leaving Edmian's side, she fell back to walk beside the elf, grabbing him by the arm and shaking him out of his daze. "Hey!" she snapped. "Something's obviously wrong with you, so why don't you just tell us?"
Evariel stared at her. For a moment he looked startled, frightened, almost vulnerable. For a moment Jolette felt like she was looking at both: the century-old elf and the awkward teenager not yet come of age.
Then the moment passed, and he put on a grin, ruffling her hair. "What, did I worry you?" he said cheerily. "I'm just a bit tired. No need to panic!"
"Hey!" Jolette exclaimed. "You liar—"
But Evariel had already pushed on ahead, deliberately avoiding her gaze.
"Leave him, kid."
Jolette spun around in surprise. The one who had spoken was Zamrod, who rarely said anything unless spoken to first.
"Sometimes people don't want to talk about things," said the dwarf. "Don't pressure him. Won't help you."
"But him," Jolette muttered, but Zamrod shook his head and kept walking.
Edmian, at least, seemed to be doing more or less fine. With wide eyes he took on the endless summer around them, the evergreen plants and colorful blossoms and strange insects and birds, regarding everything with an amazement as if witnessing summer for the first time. He probably did, Jolette realized. He had come to Firland in autumn, and there were no proper summers in the Colorless Land.
Jolette was glad. She had become so used to worrying about him that this was a much-needed break, though that thought itself disturbed her. Some part of her became anxious at the thought, wondering if he would still need her if he went on like this. Wondering if, at this rate, she might not be the one to need comfort from him.
She didn't know what scared her more, the possibility itself or the fact that she was thinking such things.
Forcibly trying to distract herself, she focused her gaze on the landscape around them. The view was ever-changing. The grasslands they had first entered only lasted a few days, then the road began to bend steeply downwards, leading them past terraced fields and south-facing slopes where grapes grew. The sun became ever warmer. The breeze began to carry the faintest scent of the sea.
"We're close to the ocean now," Saryana explained. "Soon we'll be turning southwest to follow the coast."
And then, at long last, they came to a stop above a tall cliff and looked out upon the ocean.
Jolette held her breath. Many, many times she had seen the sea back in Firland, but it had never looked like this. Here it was not cold and greenish under the cold wind and cloudy skies. Here it was blue, a dark, rich shade of blue, endless and glittering in the bright light of the Jadirian sun. Ships with colorful sails and flags passed over the water. Two large gray fishlike shapes jumped out of the waves and landed with a splash, their fins poking out as they raced alongside a boat.
"Dolphins!" Saryana exclaimed. "It's the dolphins! We're in luck!"
Jolette held her breath. Dolphins. She had only ever heard of these creatures in tall tales that came up from the south, a million times falsified and embellished. Nellary claimed to have seen one once as a young woman, but when Maithea had laughed and asked her to describe it, her description had been vague. And nothing at all like the real thing.
If only the two could see this sight with her now. How they would love it! The sea, and the colors, and the sun, and the dolphins...and the cliff on which they stood, and the well-maintained road, and the stone pines and palm trees on every side...
If only they were here. If only Jolette didn't stand here without them, enjoying something they should have enjoyed together.
Mama...Mommy...are you out there? Can you hear me?
Of course they couldn't, Jolette knew that. They were hundreds, if not thousands of miles away. And here she was. Enjoying a trip when she should be putting all her strength into saving their lives.
Blue...
Jolette clenched her fist. She was doing everything she could, she told herself. She was here to rescue them. And no one demanded that she had to be sad and miserable for the entire mission.
But her parents. And Lisha. And everyone else she had lost or was at risk of losing.
Why couldn't they all be here? Safe and sound? If it was up to her, if she had the power—
Two warm hands came to rest on her shoulders, one on each side. She glanced up to find herself flanked by Aithal and Saryana. Neither of them spoke a word, but something in their glances told her they understood.
~ ~ ~
The road along the coast was more crowded than the one they had followed so far, but they had nothing to fear. Every so often they would run into companies of soldiers marching past, dressed in red and black just like Saryana, saluting her as they went. Aithal smiled every time. "You may be on leave," he said, "but it looks like they haven't forgotten you."
"Let's hope it's the same at the archives," she would say, though she returned the smile.
For many miles the road led them over the cliff-tops, giving them a magnificent view of the ocean, the crashing waves and sea-washed rocks and passing ships and dolphins. Seagulls circled overhead, screaming in their own language and waiting to steal food from the passing travelers. Wains and carriages passed them by, some pulled by sturdy ponies, others by lean, graceful, fiery horses the likes of which did not live in the north.
The blue was ever-present, both on the sea and in Jolette's mind.
Maybe it had to do with Lisha's fall, maybe with the color of the sky above and the sea below. But more and more often the thought would creep on her unbidden, whispering to her, speaking promises of heroism and bravery and saving the world. She could have the power, they seemed to say. She, instead of traveling around the continent searching for a glimmer of hope, could save the world with a snap of her fingers.
She wouldn't, of course. She was loyal to Edmian. She had seen what being robbed of the pendant did to him. She wouldn't inflict that on her friend.
But maybe, it whispered, if she only borrowed it for a little...
No. She remembered Lisha's warnings. The pendant was too powerful for any one human to handle long. Sooner or later it possessed people. It would possess her. She had seen how powerless she was. She couldn't possibly hope to hold the will of an entire people and withstand it.
Except, the voice insisted, Edmian could.
That's because Edmian has no will of his own! she mentally snapped at the whisper. This is different!
The temptation paused.
You could just borrow it quickly, it said more urgently. Not long enough for it to possess you.
Shut it! It's too dangerous. We've been through all of this when we stayed with the elves!
The whisper went quiet again for so long that Jolette thought she had blocked it out successfully.
Then, finally, it asked one short, simple question.
Is it?
~ ~ ~
Jadiria had many places to marvel at, but nothing came even remotely close to its capital.
Aithal had warned them of the sight. Imraka, he had said, was nothing like Refyrn or Ormenis or any other city they had seen before. It was more than the capital of any kingdom. It was the heart of the Jadirian continent, gigantic and filled with colors and knowledge and pulsating life.
But nothing could ever have prepared them for the real thing.
The city was huge, huge in the truest sense of the word. It had once been built at the coast around a small haven, but now the ocean was out of sight from its ends. Wide, spacious roads mingled with small alleys. Large, multi-storied houses that accommodated many families at once rose up on every side, built of light stone, ivy and vines climbing along their walls, their archways opening the view into green yards with fountains and palm trees. The stalls of vendors flanked the wider roads, covered in colorful fabrics or foreign spices or fruit Jolette had never seen before.
And everywhere, in every corner, the city was buzzing with life. Tall women walked slowly side by side, carrying their groceries on top of their heads. Children played with a ball in the streets. Wagons rattled to and fro. Soldiers on patrol stopped by food stalls. People had conversations from window to window while hanging up their laundry. Cats took naps in sunny spots until they were chased by dogs. A million different languages were spoken all at once, and the strangers in the streets seemed to come from every single part of the world.
And yet, Jolette noticed, the city was clean. Cleaner than Rivertown, cleaner than what she had seen of Refyrn. Even cleaner, perhaps, than Ormenis, though how these people did it without magic was beyond her.
Saryana smirked. "You surprised?" she said. "There's no magic in here. Only knowledge and a lot of people working together."
They stayed at an inn for a day, surrounded by strangers from foreign lands. They bathed and washed their clothes, drying them under the warm sun, and in the evening they mingled with strangers from all parts of Jadiria and still more from other countries. Aithal and Saryana fit in effortlessly, making conversation, switching from language to language without a moment's transition period. Evariel bumped into a small group of South-Elves and spoke with them, though he seemed out of it, falling silent and losing track every handful of sentences. Zamrod refused to socialize.
Jolette and Edmian found themselves at a table with a group of pre-teens and teenagers roughly around their age. Edmian spoke little, eyeing them with a mixture of fear and fascination. Jolette, however, threw herself into the conversation, glad to finally have someone her own age besides Edmian to talk to.
These people were nice, she thought as she recounted their perilous journey from the north while veering around its reason. Liara would like them; they were cheerful and uncomplicated and might get her out of her shell. Then she shut off that thought. There was nothing she could do about her absence. Not right now.
"You should try talking to these guys more," she told Edmian as they returned to their room later that night. "You've never had a lot of friends your age, right?"
Edmian gave her a look that was almost solemn. "Do I need any?"
Jolette blinked. "Huh?"
"I already have you." The hint of a smile crossed over Edmian's face. "That's enough for me."
I'm needed.
A flash of something shot all through Jolette's body, a feeling she could not explain. Not quite flustered, not quite happy, but something in between. A little gratitude, a little relief, more than a little affection.
Then frustration.
"Don't say that," she snapped, averting her gaze. "Nobody should just have one friend. It's not good for you!"
"Why not?"
Jolette gave an irritated sigh. She knew why, but she couldn't explain it.
"It just isn't," she said. "Trust me."
Edmian made no response, but she could tell he was pondering her answer.
~ ~ ~
For most of the day Aithal and Saryana had been out and about, but the next morning they explained their disappearance.
"We did it," Saryana declared as they sat together at breakfast. "We got permission to enter the archive."
"You did, you mean," Aithal remarked. "All I did was find the right people for you to talk to."
"We did it," Saryana repeated in a tone that allowed no protests. "We can go there today and search. I'll guide you."
Silence fell at the table. They all knew what this meant.
Either they had made all this trip for nothing, or they would finally, finally find the answers they needed.