That dream.
The faces were a blur now. The details, scattered. Still, the ache remained, deep, pulsing.
Yawning, I turned to check on Jenen. My hand was resting on his shoulder, where I'd placed it to keep him from tossing during the worst of his fever. At some point I'd drifted into a heavy slumber, but Jenen was resting quietly now. I touched his forehead. He was still feverish, but not roasting.
His metallic eyes fluttered open, reflecting the dim light from the moons filtering through the branches above.
“…Key?” he whispered.
“Right here.”
He managed a nod before returning to oblivion.
I shivered from the cold and touched his arm. It was freezing. There had to be some way to warm him.
I stood. Jenen had a shawl somewhere around here. I walked the length of the clearing, attempting to locate the silver cloth. A shining something caught my eye, then vanished. I approached the shadowy area and bent down to grope for the shawl.
Pain shot across my fingers and I jerked back from the darkness. Gazing at my hand, I found teeth marks.
Oh, come on! This had to set a record or something. Couldn’t I avoid fainting for just one day? Clutching my fingers, I sucked in air. I didn't want to be poisoned, darn it!
The pain stopped. Blinking, I glanced at my hand and found no sign of the injury. Had my fingers healed in response to my thoughts? Crazy. But this meant I wouldn't die. That was good.
But the little fuzzy who had given it to me was still in the vicinity, and the little fuzzy had to die. I scanned the gloom again, lifting my hand. A ball of blue light appeared at my fingertips and I held it out to scatter the shadows. There it was, a single furapintairow, growling at me with bared fangs, its back against a gnarled tree.
“Oh, shut up,” I said as its growling grew more incessant. I’ll admit I was disappointed when that didn’t quiet it. Apparently, this strange ability of mine to conjure and control did not pertain to creatures and humans.
“My, my, the little boy does know how to use his powers,” a familiar voice said behind me.
I turned around and glared daggers at Chas. “Where have you been?” I got a clear view of him. His black apparel, so flawless before, was now a clawed and bloodied mess.
“I was off taking a nap,” he said with a casual shrug, though I caught the wince as he moved his shoulders.
“Were you bitten?”
“Nah,” he said.
I raised a brow. “You sure? ‘Cause I just learned this new trick, and I thought some practice could make perfect.” I held up my hand to find the blue orb still hovering above it. “How do you shut it off?”
“Good question.” Chas strolled over and thrust his hand at the orb. His fingers slid through the light, not touching any solid substance. “Apparently that won’t work.”
I shook my hand to try shutting the light off, but it stayed.
“Tell it to disappear,” the blond suggested.
“Go away,” I told it. The light vanished. I shook my head. “At least it’s easy. So, you weren’t bitten?”
“I wasn’t. Clawed a good deal, sure, but I avoided the mouths—at least, when I couldn’t kick them in.”
“If you’re sure,” I said, glancing back at the growling fuzzy. “Wanna kick his teeth in, too?”
“Not particularly,” he said with a yawn.
“Get some sleep. It’s not every day you fight an entire army of little red things.” I forced a smile.
“Maybe for you.” He leapt into the treetops.
I decided not to ask, though I still had to wonder whether this guy was from Earth, or if this was his home.
I turned to the growling Small Red Fuzzy and grinned in a manner I thought even Crenen would be impressed by. I knew exactly what to do with the vile little thing, if only it would work.
After dispatching the creature, I finally found sleep.
“Take this.” He extended the silver cloth toward the other boy. “To remember.”
“Don’t you understand? I want to forget!” He tossed the shawl to the ground.
“Not forever. Someday you will want to remember,” the youth said, mismatched eyes glinting in the orange light of the evening sky.
“You fool, how can you stay?” the other boy demanded.
“Our people, they need me. I have to save them—I swore I would save them…”
“Swear, Vendaeva. Save my people from the Kirid. Save my people from our torturous end.”
“I swear,” I mumbled, turning over in my bed. Wait. I touched the bed. There was no mattress. Instead I felt grass, wet and cold. Forcing my eyes open, I stared at the ladybug creeping along on a blade of grass, mere inches from my face. It turned toward me, and my eyes widened as I saw its unusually large mouth opening to reveal needle-point teeth stretched into a grin. Unsure whether I was seeing things or not, I sought a bug-less blade of grass to stare at instead. Then I recalled where I was.
Groaning, I forced myself to roll over, sit up, then stifle a yawn before taking in my surroundings. It was morning now, and the sun was working to dry the dew sparkling across the foliage.
I glanced at Jenen. He was curled up, his legs tucked beneath his folded arms, his breathing regular as he slept. I frowned. I hadn’t been able to find Jenen’s shawl, but because of some dream I couldn’t recall I knew it was important that I locate it.
I climbed to my feet and stretched against soreness in my muscles. When I'd gone back to Earth, I'd decided to work out and get in shape—but after my family diagnosed me with insanity, my exercise became infrequent. Still, the muscles weren’t as sore as they could’ve been.
I found a pebble and chucked it up at the trees.
“Yes?” a voice called down.
“Shh.” I beckoned with my hand and Chas jumped down from the branches. “I need water for Jenen,” I told him.
He stared and finally sighed. “You’re taking this Vendaeva thing too far,” he muttered before walking into the dense foliage.
“Thanks,” I whispered after him, though it galled me. Chas had proven himself last night against hundreds of Paradise Warriors. The least I could do was show him my gratitude for that—and take advantage of his services in the meantime.
It wasn’t long before my rival returned, toting a leather flask of stream water. He handed it over, then jumped to the lowest branch where he watched me give Jenen a drink.
As I helped Jenen sip, I glanced at Chas. “Weren't there thousands of furapintairow that attacked?”
“Yes.”
“Why did they retreat?”
“Oh, well, they weren't very keen on facing the two of us. They'd been under the impression that you didn't have the use of your powers, and, besides, they were being controlled. The spell didn't last long.”
“Controlled? By Kirid Clan?”
“That's the one.”
I fell silent. Somewhere close by a group of people wanted me dead for no other reason than a stupid prophecy I had yet to read for myself.
“What did you do with the fura?” Chas asked.
“I gave it a second chance at life.”
“That sounds dangerous, coming from you.” He swung his legs in the air.
“I just decontaminated him.”
“You what?”
“I took the venom out.”
He blinked, then smirked. “You’re a cruel one.”
“Why? I just spared us any further trouble from at least one stupid fuzzy. ‘Sides, it’s not like it’ll die, so we’re all happy, right?”
“So naïve.”
I gritted my teeth and gazed at him inquiringly.
“A fura can hardly defend itself without venomous fangs. It will soon die,” Chas said.
“I doubt that.” I wasn’t sure why I felt so certain.
“A mystery, as always.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Since you were this big,” he held his hands vertically, three feet ap
art, “you've always known things no one else could even fathom. But then, I suppose that makes sense.” As he spoke his voice took on a different sound, deeper and older than eighteen.
“Since I was…?” I stared. “You never knew me before high school, Chas. You moved in when I was fourteen…”
His mouth twisted into a vague, mysterious, almost gentle smile. “Ah, Jason, I knew you would forget—each time, I knew. But, I still…hoped.”
I shook my head. “I don’t—”
“'I’ll beat you,'” Chas’s voice took on the sound of a ten-year-old. “'No matter what, no matter where, no matter how—I swear, I’ll beat you at everything.’” He smiled.
A chill ran along my spine, but not from the cold. I recalled saying those words, but when, and to whom, I didn’t know. “What are you?” I whispered, staring at the young man before me.
In answer his features changed, making him appear around twenty-five. His blond hair grew long and spilled off his shoulders, and his green eyes danced with a strange yellow light. He was taller—I could tell, even though he was still sitting on the lowest branch—and more muscular.
I took a step back, trembling.
“Reincarnate,” another voice said.
Whirling around, I spotted Crenen standing in the clearing, lopsided ponytail bobbing in the morning breeze, tattered red wraps flapping. Menen stood behind him, like a sentinel.
“Also called shapeshifter, yeah?” Crenen said with a dark smile.
13
A Painful Midnight Excursion
Distracted by the arrival of familiar faces, Chas’s transformation slipped my mind. These were two of the people who had haunted my memory for the past six months. Alive. Breathing. Real. “Hey! What took you so long?”
Crenen arched an eyebrow. “What take we so long? Strange Coward Dolt ask dumb questions, yeah?”
It was great to see him too.
“We wait on Strange Coward Boy. What take you so long?”
I scoffed. “Me?” If he dared lay into me about not returning to Paradise sooner, I was prepared to defend myself.
Menen moved before Crenen could reply. He crossed the clearing and knelt before Jenen.
“Six of those furapintairow things got him,” I explained.
“Six?” Crenen gazed at his twin. “Why not have buried the body by now?”
“He’s not dead yet,” Chas spoke up, reminding everyone of his presence. He was still in his new form, which startled me again when I glanced at him. Apparently, he was not originally from Earth.
“Sick Nasty Dog fight good, we admit.” Crenen shrugged.
“He had help,” yet another voice broke in, this one female. I turned to find the voice's owner. I’d forgotten what she looked like, and though my memories had come back to me upon my return to this world, it wasn’t the same at gazing upon the real thing. She was stunning.
Crenen’s lip curled into a smirk. “So say Seer, yeah?”
The woman nodded, then her pink eyes sparkled as she rested her gaze on me. “Key!” She rushed forward, silken skirts of violet flowing behind her as she ran into my arms. Somehow, I managed to keep on my feet, and I returned her embrace.
“Hello, Seer Veija,” I whispered, taking in the sweet fragrance of her long golden curls.
Crenen grabbed Veija’s arm and pulled us apart. “Now not time for reunions, yeah? Now we have many questions and many answerings.”
“Such as?” I asked.
“You ask, we answer. And vice…something.”
“Vice versa,” Menen supplied from his spot next to Jenen.
“That, yeah.”
“Great, sounds like a plan.” I threw Veija a reassuring smile. “Just pick a spot on the grass and we’ll start.”
Crenen scowled at the only seating option and circled the clearing, seeking something else to sit on. The rest of us sat in the grass and waited. Finally, the Yenen clan leader gave up his search and turned back to the rest of us. “Well, ask, Strange Coward Boy.”
“Okay.” There were so many questions, how could I possibly find some place to start? “I guess I want to know how you found us so quickly?”
Menen answered. “You’ve made a circle around the Realm of Yenen for several days now. It’s been a wide circle, but not untraceable. It was almost as though Jenen wanted us to follow.”
“Maybe Jenen was trying to lure Veija,” I mused. A shoot of bloodred hair flashed in my mind. “Hey, you guys didn’t happen to run into anyone while you were following us, did you?”
“We did, as a matter of fact,” Veija said. “How did you know?”
“Was his hair red?”
She gasped. “Yes!”
“You know him?” Menen asked.
“Well, no, not really. I just saw him,” I said. “Where is he now, do you know?”
“Lon is watching him,” Veija said.
“You captured him?” I asked, relieved. “Seems to be a favorite hobby of yours, Crenen.”
The prince's reply was a toothy grin.
“Where did you see him?” Menen asked.
“He was talking to Jenen, but I missed most of the conversation…”
“What he say?” Crenen asked.
“Well,” I tried to remember, and it rushed back with perfect clarity, “his name was Sikel. He was dying of the Paradisaical disease…”
“We thought so,” Crenen nodded. “Was coughing like Teetering Last Legs.”
I wondered if that last was in reference to a real person. “He wanted to see me.”
“Kirid spy, yeah?” Crenen said.
“Jenen seemed to think it possible.”
“Sick Nasty Dog stupid, but not dense,” he admitted. No one bothered to point out the problem with his choice in words. We knew what he meant.
“How is Jenen alive?” Menen asked.
“Oh, well, I kind of…” I glanced at Jenen. “I kind of took the venom out.”
They stared.
“Is possible for one Fuzzy Poison Bite, but six?” Crenen looked me up and down.
“It’s quite possible, even with six, when it's done by Vendaeva,” Chas said, jumping from his tree branch. “Show them your little orb friend.” He brushed his long hair away from his face. It was still disconcerting to see my high school rival as a twenty-five-year-old.
Shaking off the feeling, I raised my hand and urged the orb to come out. The blue ball of light returned, floating above my hand no matter how I waved it back and forth.
Veija gasped, Menen blinked, while Crenen’s eyes danced with something unreadable.
“He’s got more than just this trick up his sleeve.” Chas smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but give a tiny smile back. Bizarre that the source of so much resentment in high school was now on my side. But who was I to argue?
“No one speaking of sleeves, yeah?” Crenen snapped. He flopped down in the grass and threw himself onto his back. “Speaking of fates,” he whispered, his voice faint.
“Someday you will want to remember…”
I shook my head as the child’s voice replayed in my mind.
“Is something wrong, Key?” Veija asked.
“No, I’m fine,” I assured her before she could assume there was another bug flying around my head. I stood and walked over to where Crenen lay in the grass and crouched down beside him. “You said something about me taking too long. What did you mean?”
“You swore,” he said quietly.
I thought back. “I…what?”
“You swore to save my people.”
Oh. That kind of swearing. “I did, yes, a long time ago…”
Crenen nodded. “At that time, in this clearing, you swore to help Paradise, but not to save its people. To help Paradise could mean so many things.”
It was quiet as I gazed around the clearing, hardly seeing the people as they watched us. Was this really the same place where I'd found Crenen soaked in blood?
He continued. “When you were dreaming, I asked again.
And you swore, Vendaeva. You swore to save my people.”
A tingling sensation ran along my fingertips, confirming the truth of his words. I glanced at my hands and found them glowing blue. “I’m turning into a nightlight.”
Chas chuckled.
That reminded me.
“Hey, Crenen?”
“Yes, Strange Coward Boy of Many Questions?” Crenen asked, smiling patiently. (At least, as close as he would ever get to looking patient.)
I lowered my voice. “Is Chas a good guy, or does he work for the Kirid? I mean, can we trust him?”
“What do you think?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
I really couldn’t say.
That night we camped in the clearing, for Jenen’s sake. I fell asleep fast, then woke with a start. Again. (Why couldn't I ever get a decent night's sleep?) Sitting up, I gazed at the little blue orb that had somehow come out of my hand again. It was bobbing back and forth in front of me. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I pushed to my feet.
The orb danced above my head, giving off enough light to make out each sleeping form around me. Jenen slept nearby, his breathing deeper and more regular now. Veija was covered in Menen’s green cloak, sleeping near the smoldering fire. Menen rested against a tree stump, while Chas presumably slept somewhere in the branches above. I swept the clearing again, and my eyes narrowed. That was the problem.
No Crenen.
The orb touched my shoulder to get my attention, then floated off to my right, leading into the undergrowth. Glancing one last time at my companions, I crept after the ball of light. Occasionally I glimpsed the light between the brambles and overgrowth ahead, but then the orb vanished, leaving me in darkness. Scowling, I raised my hand and muttered, “Liitae.” The blue orb shot from the brush and rested in my palm. “Don’t do that again.”
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought the orb bobbed a nod.
“Now, Liitae—that is your name, right?”
It bobbed up and down.
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