by D P Rowell
The waitress walked by and dropped their drinks on the table. Ace grabbed the drink he ordered as per Trilo’s recommendation and looked back at his brother. “You don’t remember?”
Cameron gulped his drink and smacked his teeth. “Nah, actually. I don’t remember much of what life was like before all this mess we’re in.”
Ace rolled his eyes. “You can say that again.” He swished the yellow liquid around in his mug and brought it to his lips. The warm, creamy texture slid across his tongue and awoke a new sense of purpose to his taste buds. It tasted like a tangy version of Grandpa’s hot cocoa with a hint of desert fruit. Ace scope his mug as if the secret recipe were written on it as he swallowed.
Trilo plopped down on the other side of the booth. “What’d I tell ya? Huh? Pretty tasty, idn’it?” Ace nodded and took another sip. The fae leaned in and signaled the others to do the same. “Have as much as you want. It’s on the house.”
“How’d you manage to pull that off?” Cameron said.
“Easy,” Trilo said. “Krawl’s a sucker for fae crystals. He’ll sell you food and drinks for less than half the price if you pay with them sometimes.”
Ace leaned over the table. “What? You have fae crystals?”
Trilo nodded with a goofy smile. “My parents gave me some when I was little, and we were separated. I’ve only got a couple left now.”
Ace frowned. “Trilo! You shouldn’t have spent your parents’ crystals on me.”
Trilo brushed it aside. “They were gonna get spent on something sooner or later. Don’t worry about it.”
“Trilo, I can’t acc—”
Cameron cut Ace off with a hand on his back and said, “Thanks, Trilo. We appreciate it.”
Trilo tucked his lips in his mouth, curled them into a half smile, and saluted with two fingers at his forehead. “You got it.”
The boys left Beggar’s Choice a few hours later with a belly full of roast runners, Heorg kernels, and spiced gobblers for desert. They’d spent their meal laughing at Trilo’s jokes and swapping stories. Ace and Cameron reminisced on silly fights they had when they were younger. Ace asked Trilo to share one of his experiences shortly after to avoid coming across a memory of the Peppercorns. Trilo told of the time George caught him on the phone with his girlfriend during initial training. The elite made him mop the entire Great Hall every week for two weeks by himself. He went on to explain how he no longer had said girlfriend. Ace battled mild feelings of guilt when he heard the story. He had been shot straight into the same room with the elite and hadn’t had to endure all the strict rules of training like Trilo or the other hunters. Just because of who his Grandpa was. Nevertheless, the night went on and his mind found plenty distractions.
After they finished their meal, Trilo said a final thank you to the water drake bartender, and they went back to the streets to enjoy the merriment before the night came to an end. As they walked Prodigal Street to search for a carriage to take them home, something caught Ace’s ear.
“Yeah, I heard they let parcel escape, too!” The voice rumbled deep below the noise of the crowds. Ace spun and looked through the many faces surrounding him until he saw the mouth matching the words. One tall jag, strong as an ox, leaned against the wall outside a restaurant. Draped over his truck-sized bicep was a slender female jag in a sparkling red dress with black diamonds hanging from the end of her antlers. The large jag spoke to another male jag who had stubby antlers and a round belly. Ace drifted away from Cameron and Trilo and leaned against the wall. He turned the other way to make his eavesdropping less obvious.
“Of course they let parcel escape,” the fat jag responded. “Probably wasn’t parcel to begin with. I knew it too good be true.”
“You got that right, ug. They have no clue what they doing. Whole army of witches attacked this city even! Ever since Marty passed away, Gathara been train wreck. I beginning to lose hope in this city.”
“Well, there still Marty’s kid.”
Ace’s eyes lit up.
“Pfft.” The other jag laughed so deep it rumbled the ground. “You don’t actually believe those rumors, do you? Marty has no family. He left us with no one to take his place and the elite hustlin’ 'round like desert runners with their heads cut off.”
The female jag spoke next. “I heard Marty's kid was parcel.”
“Yeah, right,” the buff jag responded, “Might as well enjoy time tonight, ugs. Gathara’s crumbling 'fore our eyes, and soon Yutara will . . .”
Ace jolted upright at a slap on his arm. His eyes fixed on Cameron standing in front of him. Trilo stood a few feet behind, gesturing at Ace to hurry along.
“Hey,” Cameron said, “What are you doing? Everything okay?”
Ace stared at his older brother with silence for a bit. He shook his head and walked along the sidewalk. At this, Trilo turned and continued to lead them out of the street.
Cameron caught up to Ace and gently grabbed his elbow as he walked by his side. “Hey, what’s wrong, bro?”
Ace shook his head but didn’t say anything. He kept his focus on Trilo and trudged along. His peripherals revealed Cameron glancing behind in an apparent attempt to discover what Ace had heard or seen. Trilo led them to the end of Prodigal street, where the festivities ceased, and hailed a carraige awaiting customers. Cameron stepped in front of Ace. “Bro, we were having such a good time, what happened?”
“Exactly, Cameron,” Ace said.
Cameron shot Ace a look of bewilderment.
Trilo turned around at the sound of the brothers arguing.
Ace’s face grew hot. “We’re here, having such a good time. Eating, laughing, joking. Meanwhile, the world is ending, Gathara is falling apart . . . The Peppercorns are probably locked up in some cold cellar just like I was, eating scraps and getting bossed around by that drake! At least I deserved it, Cameron. They didn’t do anything.” Cameron’s face slowly morphed from curiosity to dismay as Ace spoke aloud. Ace stuck his arm straight, palm to the sky, as if to display Prodigal Street behind him, “They’re the ones who deserve to be dancing to the songs of the street musicians. They deserve to have a nice meal paid for by a friend. And the reason they’re not and I am is because I failed.”
Cameron stuttered a few times and dropped his jaw. He shook his head, folded his arms, but it seemed as if his brain couldn’t match his mouth. Ace understood what it meant. His brother wanted to reassure him he was wrong, but in his heart, Cameron knew everything Ace said was true.
Trilo looked back and forth between the Halders and the carriage driver waiting for them. “Guys, I hate to interrupt this, but our ride is waiting. Can we talk about this later?”
Cameron tried to speak again with no luck. Ace gently bumped into him as he approached the carriage and stepped inside. During trip home, no one spoke another word.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Israh
Ace lay on his back, his eyes stuck on the bland, dark ceiling above him. Despite his exhaustion, his eyes remained peeled back as if a spiritual force prevented them from closing. Trilo’s monstrous snoring didn’t help either. Ace used the sleepless night to pool his thoughts. He considered all things discussed between Kareena and her father from their meeting in the living room. The idea of winning over all Yutara to this new movement she had spoken of tickled his ear. He quickly reasoned why it would never work. How would faes in Yutara be convinced to suddenly give up their beliefs of the elyr being evil and join them? Maybe if Ace had the Emerson Stone back, he might use it to persuade them, but he didn’t. An idea surfaced. He was the only human elyrian in the world. In history, actually. Maybe this would be leverage. He could still speak fae as well.
Did Rio have some sort of strange abilities since he had the stone now? Certainly not the elyr. How could a parcel even use the elyr? Ace
gritted his teeth as he pictured the frog man’s face. The drake had to be stopped. Whatever the cost. Ace rolled over on his side and pulled his blanket closer to his neck. He clos
ed his eyes and tunneled his focus on the Light. He switched through his thoughts like TV channels, finding the one which struck his heart the hardest. The memory of the Peppercorns came flooding in again. He fixed on their frightened faces. Every muscle in his body grew tense. He squeezed his bedsheets until his nails dug into his palms through the fabric. Under his eyelids flashed a dim light. Ace opened his eyes to find a pale flame seeping through the fingers of his closed fists. He let go of the sheets and stared at the two spheres of white fire in his palms. He sat straight and leaned his back against the wall. His eyebrow twitched, and he shook his head almost unconsciously. How could picturing the Peppercorns tied up and in danger cause the Light to appear on his hands? The elyr faded as doubts crept into Ace's thoughts. He looked around the room to notice his brother and Trilo still sleeping undisturbed.
Convinced sleep would allude him entirely this night, he quietly stepped from his bed and left the bedroom. Perhaps sitting by the fire and thinking more would do some good. Whenever he, Kareena, and Tharuach came together again, he wanted to have at least half an idea for a plan. The chilly hardwood floor squeaked timidly as he stepped over it. The fire popped barely audible from the hall as he approached the living room. His head jerked to a sound at the door. He scoped the rest of the living room, but all remained vacant. Everyone else lay asleep in their bedrooms. The sound happened again. He narrowed his attention on the front door. It sounded like someone scraping cloth along the wooden door. He stepped into the foyer as the sound continued. He peered out the small windows beside the door to find a sight for sore eyes. He opened the front door to a grove of subalpine, white fir, and stout shrubs. The wind had been blowing them against the door.
Shywater, Ace thought. He smiled wide and stepped through the path. As the branches and leaves grazed his skin, his previous tension grew looser, and his heart, fuller. Once he reached the still pond and torches, he sat on the soft grass. The pond looked like the sky decided to come down; a spotless mirror; a perfectly rippleless body of water. The tranquility fell into his soul. The Light must have brought him there, knowing he needed a plan. He closed his eyes and befriended the silence. Words left his lips in a whisper he felt he had no control over. As if Shywater just pulled it from him without his consent.
“I need your guidance, Emery.”
His eyes remained closed as a swirl of deep colors tunneled around him. In a flash of light, he found himself standing in a familiar place. The library at Uncle Marcus’ mansion. He stood before the “Tales of Earth” section, hoping to find a story comparable to one of Grandpa’s. This nightmare had occurred to him countless times since the actual event, but this time it seemed different. The edges of the books and shelves didn’t have their same, feathered glow. He breathed through his nose and out his mouth and realized the sensation of oxygen passing through his bloodstream. He looked around the room and took in the clarity of it all. He wasn’t dreaming like before, he was actually there.
Footsteps pounded against the winding, metal staircase to his left. He gasped for air and flinched at the sound of it. He gripped his chest, preparing for what would happen next.
I don’t want to see this. Take me back, take me away! Ace thought. But he couldn’t speak it out loud. He backed into the bookshelf behind him. There was no way out. He was stuck in the past. The footsteps echoed from below until a young Cameron reached the top level. His hazel eyes wide and deep with concern, he huffed uncontrollably until he finally got the words out.
“Ace, come quick, it’s Mom!”
Ace shook his head. His brother paid him no mind and turned and ran back downstairs. He refused to go downstairs. He couldn’t see her again. But his legs moved anyway. He fought against it to no avail. The memory took him to the bottom of the stairs, where the image he dreaded to see at night stood before him clear as a picture. This time the details shone through like the source of light itself. He noticed things his nightmares never showed. His mother lay in her sundress, sprawled out over the kitchen floor in a puddle of yellow liquid. On the counter sat a half-empty bottle of olive oil. Dozens of shattered plates and glasses surrounded his mom. Julie stood by her, hands over her head and speechless. Cameron stood at the end of the stairs by Julie, and Ace stood behind him.
“Julie, what did you do?” Cameron said.
Julie didn’t respond. Ace noticed something he hadn’t remembered before. Aunt Kaitlyn was there, kneeling with a hand on his mother’s neck. Ace tilted his head and before he could acknowledge it, Father came rushing through from the hall, followed by Uncle Marcus.
Colton Halder’s eyes grew wide. He fell beside his wife, shoved Aunt Kaitlyn aside, and pulled Mom into his lap and held her in his arms.
“Who did this?” Father said, choking on his words, “who’s fault is this?”
Ace’s body flushed with weakness and his throat stung from the stomach acid rising.
Please, Ace thought, I don’t want to see this anymore. I’ve forgiven Julie already, I want to move on. Please. Please, take me away from this.
Aunt Kaitlyn, who now stood behind Father, reached down and touched Father’s back. “It was no one’s fault. Just an accident.”
Julie cried out loud. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. It—it—it’s not my fault!” Tears gushed from her eyes. Uncle Marcus stepped over the broken glass and picked Julie up. “No, no! I didn’t mean to, you have to believe me!”
Uncle Marcus, Ace thought. Was he why the Light had brought him to revisit this memory? Uncle Marcus was a parcel! Was he behind this incident?
Ace’s eyes fixed on Aunt Kaitlyn. For something new caught his attention which had alluded his nightmares since the event occurred. Aunt Kaitlyn and Julie were staring at each other as Uncle Marcus took Julie away. The little girl’s face was blood red and soaked in horrified tears. But Aunt Kaitlyn; her face found a perfect balance between concern and peace. The right side of her mouth slightly curled upward. Was she . . . grinning? Ace’s chest nearly exploded at what he saw next. His Aunt’s head tilted forward toward her daughter. Nodding. She nodded at Julie. He stepped forward and opened his mouth to get his aunt’s attention.
“Ace!” Another voice shouted. At the sound of this voice the memory flashed into darkness and he found himself traveling through a tunnel again. The tunnel took him back to reality. He opened his eyes and found himself in Shywater, the tranquil pond a contrast to his memory. But the thing which brought him the greatest relief and joy wasn’t Shywater, it was Kareena. She sat before him with a hand on his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear.
“Kareena,” Ace said. His mind found difficulty adjusting to reality again. “What are you doing here?”
Kareena shrugged. “Guess I could ask you the same thing.”
Ace opened his mouth and stammered a bit. He almost didn’t comprehend her words. It was as if he were in a coma and someone suddenly slapped him back to life. He scratched his head, took a deep breath, and gathered his words. “I couldn’t sleep. I got up to sit by the fireplace and I saw Shywater outside. So, I came.”
Kareena grinned and looked around the still oasis. “Same here. I guess Emery wanted us here together.”
“But, why?” Ace said. He felt a little dishonest asking this question. But he didn’t want to tell Kareena about his revisited memory. It was fresh on his heart and he’d finally gotten free of it. He wanted his mind on other things.
Kareena lifted one of her shoulders and dropped it again. “No idea.” She looked him in the eyes again and he suddenly felt peaceful once more. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“I was . . .” Ace chose his next words carefully. “I was just concerned for our future is all. I wanted a space to think about a plan to bring to your dad when we talk again.” It wasn’t a total lie.
“Same here,” Kareena said. They both sat crisscrossed and she scooched closer, so their knees touched. “I guess we need to come up with a plan, then.”
“That’s why the Light brought us here tonight?” Ac
e asked.
Kareena nodded giddily. “I think so, yes.”
“Well, any ideas?”
Kareena shook her head. She tucked her jaw and rested it on her fist. “I know that just simply training you isn’t the solution though.”
“Well, your Father also makes good points. I like your idea about convincing others to join our cause, but we just don’t have the resources.”
“Okay, so how do we get them?”
“The resources?”
Kareena nodded.
Ace sighed and glanced around the pond. “I have no idea. We need something as big as . . . as big as . . . as big as Heorg.”
Kareena’s eyebrows shot up and she slowly raised her head from her fist. She said the next thing with a sparkle in her eyes. “Or as big as Gathara.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ace don’t you see? Your grandfather wanted you to take over Gathara as the Halder. He wanted you to lead them. Your grandfather began the Indies movement almost single-handedly. If he can do that, you can change it and get it back on track.”
Ace’s nose twitched, and he leaned back. “Okay, first off, almost single-handedly isn’t the same as single-handedly, which is what you’re suggesting I do. Secondly, my grandfather had the Emerson Stone. And thirdly, the elite don’t trust me at all. You saw Sebastian when we tried to talk to him, he kicked us out and wanted nothing to do with us.”
Kareena leaned close to Ace. She smelled like fruit. “But he could have thrown you back in the cellar.”
Ace stared at her with no words for a moment.
Kareena continued, “He clearly doesn’t believe you’re a parcel anymore, or he wouldn’t have just let you escape. Look, your grandfather started The Indies, its future belongs in your family, not with Sebastian. The only reason they’re so cautious is because they want to run Gathara well and make your grandfather proud. Show them he chose you. He picked you for a reason. You don’t need the Emerson Stone to do that, it’s already in your blood. And to your other point . . .” She reached down and grabbed Ace’s hand. “You only have to do it almost single-handedly too.” The touch of her hand sent his body rushing with warmth. He looked at her purple eyes and experienced goosebumps and a sinking heart. He went to respond but couldn’t get the words out. His tongue twisted over itself. “You can do this,” She whispered.
