He looked at her with a scowl. “More questions?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “No questions.”
“Good,” Zed said, looking back out at the Thrane landscape. “Cause I’m in no mood.”
Seren continued to look out at the countryside in silence. The sun set behind them, casting the land in a blanket of darkness disturbed only by the light of a rare farmhouse or village. Zed climbed down off his barrel, drawing a look from Seren.
“Because this was my home,” he said, answering her unasked question with a strangely grateful smile. “Home is always a part of you, no matter what else changes. I wanted to see it.” Without another word, Zed Arthen returned to his cabin.
The next several days passed fairly uneventfully. One morning she found Gerith and Pherris looking at a pile of large maps as they plotted their course. Gerith traced a thin line across Karrnath with his compass and looked at the captain with a frown. The course they had plotted was an exaggerated curve, cutting north across the Khorvaire continent and then south again toward the eastern edge of the Talenta Plains.
“Still not sure we shouldn’t have gone south,” Gerith commented. “Would have been quicker than cutting through Thrane and Karrnath, and we could have put into port in Zilargo.”
“Whereupon my countrymen would have asked no end of questions that Master d’Cannith would have found most uncomfortable,” Pherris said. “After that our mission would be advertised on the front page of The Korranberg Chronicle, assuming we survive to see a copy after flying over hobgoblin and Valenar territories unannounced.”
“Yeah,” Gerith said eagerly. “The interesting way.” His little round face drooped when he saw that the Captain did not share his excitement.
Seren studied the map between them. She had never seen a map of the entire continent before, and wondered vaguely why they hadn’t merely flown in a straight line. She realized the truth a moment before her eyes found the name of the country to the southeast of them. She looked up quickly in that direction.
That nation was Cyre.
It was the first time Seren had ever seen the Mournland. Even from here, she could see churning white clouds boiling over the land. Life itself withdrew from the borders of Cyre. Even beyond the impenetrable mists that marked the Mournland, the ground was bare, vegetation shriveled. The shimmering clouds moved with a peculiar, pulsating rhythm. It was hypnotic and oddly beautiful in its way. A cold sensation spread through Seren as she stared at the white mist. She found it difficult to look away, but something brushed gently against her cheek, breaking the spell. When she looked, there were only Gerith and Pherris, still busy arguing about the ship’s course.
They had been airborne for nearly a week and a half when the drab Karrnathi landscape gave way to an endless golden plain. The first morning over the Talenta Plains, Seren awoke and looked over the rail to see a herd of enormous reptilian creatures marching across the plains. Each was easily three times the size of a horse, with thick heads capped with a cropped thorny crest. Their hides were brilliant green, marked with orange stripes. They moved with a ponderous, steady pace, holding their thick tails above the ground for balance. Seren watched them for several minutes in quiet awe before she realized she was being watched herself. She looked to her left and saw Gerith nearby. His tiny chest was puffed out, and his face was flushed.
“Threehorns,” he said, pointing to the herd. “My brother leads a threehorn cavalry team. Aren’t they incredible animals?”
“They look a little big for a halfling,” Seren said.
“Of course,” he answered. “That’s why we ride them in teams. What do you think of the Plains?” He watched Seren, waiting for her reaction.
“It’s beautiful, Gerith,” she said, looking back out at the land.
“No place in Eberron like this,” he answered. His voice was choked with pride, as if he had crafted the land with his own hands.
“Will we see your home while we’re here?”
“Oh, no,” Gerith said very quickly. “Not yet. I’m not ready.” He met her puzzled look with a wicked grin. “There’s a saying among the halflings. ‘Kapen hara.’ It means ‘family before all else,’ and that’s what brought me to this crew. My grandfather is the greatest storyteller in all the Plains, but he’s too old to go out and gather stories himself anymore. I promised him that the next time we met I’d have a tale that put all his to shame. I’ve been wandering the world, collecting stories, but I haven’t found a better one yet.” He sighed deeply. “I’ve more or less resigned myself to a simple truth.”
“And what’s that?” she asked.
“Stories are like baking,” he said. “A fresh pie is the best pie. So if I can’t find a better story, then I’ll just have to live through one.” He chuckled. “I think I’m on the right track. Karia Naille has always been a magnet for trouble. You’ll help, of course. A winsome damsel in distress always adds a bit of spice.”
“Damsel in distress,” she said dryly. “I thought I was the hero.”
“No, obviously I’m the hero,” Gerith said, “but I can be flexible.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
“Quite welcome,” he said. He looked down at the plains again, a beatific smile spreading across his childlike features. “I think you’ll like it here, Seren. I hope we’re in no hurry to leave. Just be careful around the locals.”
“Careful?” she said.
“The halflings are passionate people,” he answered. “Their love of beauty knows no bounds. Some of them can be a little rude. They haven’t learned any manners, especially around pretty girls like yourself.”
“I’m not a halfling,” she said.
“Not necessarily a disadvantage,” he answered with a wink. “Eliminates certain parental responsibilities, if you catch my meaning.”
Seren smirked at him, holding back a laugh. “I’ll be careful,” she said.
“Don’t worry, Seren,” Gerith said. “If all else fails, I’ll protect you from those terrible lechers. I’ll tell them we’re married.” He reached up and patted her bottom firmly, then swiftly leapt over the rail before she could react. Blizzard soared off into the clouds a moment later, leaving the mischievous halfling’s laughter behind.
“A whole nation of Snowshales,” the captain said in a rueful voice. “I think I’d rather go back to Black Pit.”
As the ship continued her flight, the landscape of the Talenta Plains only awed her more and more. While what she had seen of Breland, Thrane, and Karrnath had certainly impressed her, the wild beauty of Talenta was inspiring. Seren often found herself drawing away from her duties on the ship just to look out at the landscape, and when Pherris snapped at her to get back to work, there was no real spirit in it. The captain mostly let the ship do the flying and enjoyed the scenery as well, occasionally dozing off in his seat as he stared at the peaceful plains.
She noticed that Tristam had emerged on deck again for the first time since leaving Cragwar. His clothes were stained with soot and chemicals, and he exchanged a nervous smile with Seren as he took a deep breath of fresh air. She began to cross the deck to talk to him when Blizzard dove out of the clouds behind them, flapping toward the ship at a frenzied pace. The glidewing did not slow its approach, and as it drew closer she saw Gerith slumped in the harness on its back. Tristam followed her startled gaze and immediately went pale.
“All hands on deck!” Tristam screamed, startling Pherris from his nap.
Seren and Tristam dove aside just as Blizzard crashed heavily into the deck. The glidewing shrieked in pain and collapsed. Gerith’s body hung limp, still secured in the glidewing’s harness. Tristam reached for the straps holding Gerith, but Blizzard snapped menacingly at his hand. Tristam backed away quickly, and Eraina took his place. Blizzard regarded the paladin with a suspicious eye but did nothing to prevent her releasing its master from his harness.