Achy and run down, Garinor decided to return home. He needed a chance to recuperate and then figure out what to do next with his life. His biggest concern, though, was people might still be looking for him, and even more might join the hunt now that he had fled the castle. But it didn’t matter right then. He hurt too much to do anything else.
He needed to head south as quickly as possible, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to manage it. He looked at the nearby river and decided it might be his best chance at reaching home before he was caught or ran out of stamina.
He was already damp from floating in the water, so he went back to the river and walked in. The water rushed up around him like an old friend and carried him away.
Better prepared, and coherent, Garinor was able to lie on his back and drift in a more controlled manner now. The sky soared by overhead and he could see the edges of the riverbanks floating noiselessly by. There were rolling hills, trees, a house or two, a watermill, and they all floated on past him, unaware he was even there.
Eventually the waterway became a bit rockier, which Garinor discovered when his foot smashed into a boulder. He tilted his head forward and used his arms to steer to avoid any further collisions.
He grew weary of keeping his back arched and his head angled toward his toes, but he was making great time. Even if someone from the castle had come out after him, he would be far ahead of them by now. And with his perilous dive, they would probably assume he hadn’t survived it anyway.
The day drifted on as he floated downstream like an errant log. The river widened and slowed down at times, then narrowed and surged forward again. A few streams broke off the main flow, but he stayed near the middle of the river and it led him onward to the south.
He had a rather safe and quiet journey. He reached Paligar with only a few extra scrapes and a case of violent sneezing when he accidentally took in some water.
Garinor clambered out of the river and dragged himself up to his knees. His home wasn’t too far off and he hoped his mother would be there, returned from her day in the shop selling off her sewn creations.
Staggering and drenched, Garinor wound through the streets of his hometown. Villagers greeted him and he tried to wave back as if he had merely fallen into the stream and was returning home again. He had been away from home for seven days and some of those who greeted him did so with shock that he was home at all.
At long last, Garinor reached his home. He pushed open the door and smelled the much-welcome scent of food being cooked. Luinna turned and dropped her ladle to the floor when she saw him. She rushed right over and squeezed him tightly, not minding at all that he was soaked through and through.
“Garinor!” she cried.
He felt very funny for a minute, not quite knowing what to say to her. But she helped by asking the question she needed an answer for.
“Did the king release you, son?”
Garinor bit his lip. “Well, he did, but then the prince’s man tried to imprison me. I barely escaped.”
Fresh tears found their way into Luinna’s eyes. “Oh, Garinor.” She hugged him tightly again and then held him at arm’s length. “Then it isn’t safe for you here. It’s the first place they will look.”
“I—I know,” he said tonelessly. “But I didn’t know what else to do.”
“It’s horrible of me to say this, but if you stay here you will be killed.”
He understood what she was trying to say, but he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to be sent away, even if it meant saving his life. But then another thought occurred to him, one that pained him even more. “If they find me here, they won’t stop at hurting me, will they. They’ll hurt you and father and Deun and Paillo.”
Luinna tried not to shake but she couldn’t help herself. Garinor could see the fear in her eyes.
“Okay, Mother. I’ll go and find somewhere to stay.”
“It won’t be for long, son. Just a little while. It’s a terrible thing you are caught up in. And now your friend Tomli, too.”
“Tomli?” his eyes popped open. “What happened?”
“He… went off to try to find you, I’m afraid. He’s been gone for days now.”
“But he wasn’t taken away? He went off on his own?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Garinor released a sigh. “Good, then maybe he’s okay.”
“Of course he is,” she said. “Here, you need to eat first.”
“I’ll take it with me. I won’t put you all in any more danger.”
She didn’t speak, but nodded slowly.
“Well, Mother, I’m glad you’re okay. Is there any word about Father?”
“No, he’s still off gathering more materials I’m afraid, and isn’t due home again for another few days.”
Garinor already knew that, for it was common with his father. Still, he had hoped he might see his father one last time. “Give my best to everyone.”
“I love you, Son.”
“I love you too, Mother.” He returned her hug and then, feeling like he weighed five times heavier, reached for the door and walked out. All that remained now was to figure out where he would go to wait until things were safe.
He worried about Tomli, but he was proud, too. His best friend had gone looking for him. Garinor would have done the same thing if their roles had been reversed. And now that Tomli was off somewhere and Garinor was here, he wondered if maybe he should seek Tomli instead of going into hiding. He had no leads at all, except that Tomli’s trail was likely to bring him through Garinor’s own path, and that in the end would lead toward the scepter the king had spoken about.
As he stood outside his door, pushing his feet ahead of him in order to leave his family in peace until all the chaos was over, Garinor had two choices in mind.
Garinor should leave town and seek a place to hide.
Garinor should seek Tomli and therefore head toward the scepter in the northeast.