by J B Cantwell
She dropped her gaze, refusing to meet my eyes with hers, thick with tears.
“What if I was wrong?” she asked in a tiny voice. “What if I—”
“I don’t believe that,” I said. “Not for a second. Your sight got us through the ruins of Earth. It got us down into that mine. It’s never faltered.”
I stood up, looking at Father for support.
“What do you think?”
Like always, he didn’t seem to have a real opinion on the matter, at least not one he was going to fight for. He had voiced his idea, and we had shot it down. He gave in, shrugging his shoulders, not seeming to care one way or the other.
I sighed.
“Okay, then,” I said, turning back to Cait. “We keep looking. They’ve got to be around here somewhere.”
But they weren’t. We jumped four times, west, south, east, north, and found no trace that an entire village of people were living in these mountains. Gradually, as the day pushed onward, we widened our range, trying to keep careful track of the direction we were facing in relation to where we had started.
Still, nothing.
Finally, exhausted and discouraged, we gave in for the day. We found an overhang of rock and made our pitiful camp beneath it. Again, no wood was to be found, so we were cold as the night descended. Cait fell into a fitful sleep beneath Kiron’s blanket, and I sat beside Father, rummaging through our backpacks, trying to figure out how to ration our food. I wished I had thought to pack our bags full to bursting with the papples, but instead found we had only five of the strange fruits left to share between us. I shoved them back into the bags, irritated at my lack of preparedness, and leaned back against the cold, slick rock.
“Do not fear,” Father said. The sound of his voice surprised me. He had barely spoken since we had begun our search of the mountains. “They are near.”
He gazed around, his face slack and relaxed, as if expecting good friends to soon materialize before him.
“They aren’t anywhere near,” I said, irritated.
“You said you believed the girl,” he said.
“I don’t know what to believe,” I said under my breath.
Questions tumbled through my brain like pebbles in a rough sea.
Where are they?
Father didn’t argue, and instead turned to face me.
“When I was searching, back on Earth, for the mines, I found that I was always along the right path, even if I couldn’t see it before me. Even when I got to thinking that I might never find the places I could visualize in my head. Eventually, I always found what I was looking for.”
I watched the tops of the peaks closest to us as the sun slid mercilessly from their faces. Another day lost.
“Yeah, well, you always had someone guiding you, didn’t you?”
Someone … evil?
“I suppose,” he said, gently folding his hands over his knees. On his left ring finger, his wedding band from his marriage to my mother shined golden in the fading light of dusk.
“Why do you still wear that?” I asked, distracted by this tiny memento of his past life. “I mean, I guess what I mean to ask is, why does he still wear that? My dad?” Somewhere deep within this man was what remained of my dad, and no matter how violent or sick he had become, I was still curious about him.
He looked down at his hand, twisting the ring between his fingers.
“I think he must desire to remember,” he said. “To remember the life he had before.”
He looked up at me, and in that moment I so wanted to believe that my dad really was in there. That he really did desire something else, something beyond the madness that had consumed him for as long as I could remember.
Only Father’s black eyes met mine, though, and I turned away, shaking myself, trying to get a grip.
This wasn’t my dad. And no matter how bad I wanted it, if Father was to allow my dad’s spirit to shine through and overpower his possession, I would see the real man within the strange being that now sat beside me. In my head, a memory flashed. Dad’s eyes, wild and blue, as he gripped his hands around my throat. I shook my head vigorously, trying to rid it of the image from just a week before.
It didn’t work. I stood up, shivering slightly, but not quite ready to give in for the night. I crossed the slim valley, wanting to get away from him. If only I could have time to think. Maybe then I could figure all this out. It seemed that it was a puzzle that I was almost able to grasp the meaning of, but that was just slightly too difficult for me to truly understand.
As I reached the rock face on the other side of the valley, a flash of something out of the corner of my eye made my head snap up.
Something was here with us. Something more than just rocks.
I squinted in the dim light, searching the shadows for a hint of what I had seen.
“Hello?” I called, taking a few tentative steps in that direction.
All was still and silent around me. Perhaps it had been only in my mind. Still, a shiver ran down my spine that seemed unrelated to the cold mountain air. I suddenly wanted to be closer to Father, to Cait. Though we hadn’t seen any wildlife at all since arriving here, I wondered if perhaps these mountains were home to something more than the remaining inhabitants of Stonemore. I was just about to turn, to scamper back to nestle in with Cait, when I saw it again, and my breath caught in my throat.
He emerged from the shadows like a man rising to the surface of a body of water. The edges of his body shimmered as he moved from the black shadows into the dim opening. And there he stood, whole and solid, a gnarled wooden staff held tightly in both of his hands and pointed directly at my chest.
Kiron.
Chapter 4
I tried to speak, but before I could he stopped me.
“Don’t say a word,” he snarled, advancing on me with the staff pointed directly at my heart.
I took a step back, confused. I wanted to argue, but the look in Kiron’s eyes was frightening, vicious. With a gasp I recognized the staff he held. My heart leapt at the sight of it. I had forgotten the feeling of power that particular branch had brought to me, and suddenly I longed to hold it again.
But Kiron was unyielding.
He began to encircle me, never once lowering the staff as he inspected me.
“Where are the others?” he asked. “We’ve seen you.”
“What can we help you with, friend?” Father’s voice cut through the tension between us.
Kiron wheeled. Behind us Father and Cait stood, looking confused. Then Cait, seeing Kiron’s face, yelped in recognition and scampered in his direction, her arms outstretched to embrace him.
She never saw the blow coming, but it hit her just the same. The force that emanated from the staff knocked her backward to the ground, and she hit the stone floor of the valley with a thud.
“What is wrong with you?” I yelled, turning to help Cait.
I picked her up off the ground and held her to me. She buried her face in my neck, snuffling with surprise and hurt. When I turned to face Kiron again, I found his face confused. His grip on the staff faltered slightly as he worked to make sense of what he was seeing. Then, seeing my anger, he regained his own, brandishing the staff fiercely before us.
“Prove to me that you are who you say you are,” he said.
“Prove to you?” I asked. “I’m Aster! Who else would I be?”
“Prove it.”
I looked at Father, then back to Kiron.
“How?” I asked, confused. “Why?”
“Who is this you’re traveling with?” he countered, gesturing to Father with the tip of the wood. “When you left you two were on your own. And he’s not right.”
“It’s my father,” I said. “We found him on Earth. He’s the one who found all the gold.”
“Gold?” he said, surprised.
“Yes, gold,” I spat. “If you’d lower the staff,” my staff, “I could show you.”
He considered for a moment, but another glance at
Father and again he regained his focus.
“He’s possessed,” he said, gesturing to him again. Suddenly, I understood his hesitation.
“I know,” I said. “But it’s not the same with him. He’s sort of…opposite from everyone else. The possession actually makes him act normal. Well, sort of.” It was a lame explanation, I knew.
“We don’t allow black-eyes here,” he said, staring daggers at Father.
“Since when?” I asked, my anger rising again. “Seems to me you let Owyn practically run this place, and he was possessed the whole time.”
“We didn’t know about that,” he countered. “And things have changed since then.”
“Yeah, it seems like a lot has changed since then,” I said, glaring.
“Prove it,” he said again. “Prove to me you are who you say you are.”
“I want Lissa,” Cait cried into my shoulder. She rounded on Kiron. “Where is Lissa?” Her voice was accusing.
Kiron’s face didn’t falter now. He ripped his eyes from Cait and stared at me.
“Alright, alright,” I said. “What do you want to know?”
He didn’t answer. Whatever it was he wanted, I would get no help from him to figure it out.
“I came to the Fold when I found my great great grandfather’s map in the farmhouse attic on Earth. Only it wasn’t a map, it was a link that brought me here. When I first met you, you fed me stew that had some sort of potion in it. Since then I’ve been healthy. I can run.” Not run. Fly was a better description of what I could do now. “When I last saw you, we had just fled Stonemore after the battle, after it burned. And Cait and I went to Earth to search for gold to level the Fold.”
“How did the girl accompany you?” he questioned.
“A chaser link,” I said. “Stolen from Owyn.”
He considered me for a moment, thinking over my words. Then, with a shrewd look, he continued.
“In my house,” he said, “The one you claim to have visited, what was painted on the canvas that hung on the wall?”
What was going on? Had he completely lost his mind? I grappled with the memory.
“A pegasus,” I answered. “You painted the picture, to remember your time traveling when you were my age.”
This surprised him, and I could tell I had nearly cracked his code. He adjusted his weight, looking ruffled.
“That link you wear around your neck,” he continued. “There were others.”
I cut him off.
“You gave one of them away. To that kid in Stonemore in the tavern. The one who ate all my stew.”
He took a step back then, but didn’t lower the staff.
“Is that enough?” I asked. “Or do I need to kick you in the shins like I did when I found you dressed in purple and dancing a jig in the square?”
His eyes widened, and slowly the staff lowered to his side.
“It really is you,” he breathed. His look of anger was gone, replaced by clear relief. Even a small smile played around the edges of his lips.
My anger was not gone. This had not been the homecoming I had expected, especially after everything we had been through.
“Yes,” I said. “Now you tell me. What is your problem? Why are you pointing my own staff at me?”
He looked down at the wood, then slowly, hesitantly, held it out to me. A final gesture of trust. And despite his claim that he believed me, I could tell it cost him to give over his only weapon.
I let Cait slide to the ground, gently pushing her towards Father, who took her hand. Then I turned back to Kiron and stretched out my hand.
When my fingers closed over the wood, a warmth flooded from the tips, through my arms, and spread deliciously through my body. The wood was light, slippery in my grasp. I tapped the end of it to the stone at my feet, and the mountain shuddered around us with the power.
This seemed too much for Kiron, and he sprang at me, laughing, and gripped me in a tight hug. This gesture was so unusual, so unlike the many other interactions with Kiron I had had, that for a moment I didn’t trust him.
He released his embrace and stared into my face.
“We thought you wouldn’t return,” he said. “We thought it would be only impostors, that we were on our own.”
“Impostors?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
“There have been many others,” he said. “Boys who look just like you have come looking for us. At first we thought they were you. At least until they began to attack.”
“They attacked you?” I asked.
“Dillion the first time,” he said. “Finian the second.”
“Finian?” I breathed. “What happened to the impostors?” I asked. “You didn’t … kill them, did you?”
“I would have,” Kiron growled. “But each time they’re discovered, they vanish again.”
“Why didn’t you run?” I asked. “Hide somewhere?”
“These are the Hidden Mountains,” he said. “There is no better place to hide than here. But it did occur to me that we might move on. There are other reasons, too, of course. Little grows in these mountains.”
It was only then that I noticed how thin Kiron had become since I had last seen him. His fingers were more knobby than I remembered, and his cheeks were hollowed out as if he had barely eaten in weeks.
“We did try. But we can’t escape,” he said. “That was the main reason we stayed. We can’t make it past the storm, not with the entire village.”
“The storm?” I asked, not quite comprehending him. Wasn’t the storm we had come through only temporary? It hadn’t occurred to me that it might not be.
“The storm wraps all the way around the entire range,” he said. “We’re trapped.”
He leaned against the stone face beside him. He looked exhausted.
I stood speechless for a long moment. Someone had encircled the entire mountain range with that vicious storm. We had barely made it through the gale with the three of us. How would an entire village escape it?
“Why didn’t you jump then?” I asked. “You have links.”
He rubbed his eyes and sighed.
“I thought about it,” he said. “It would be possible for us to escape in small groups using the links. But then, where would we go? Stonemore has been overcome by the enemy, and the fields beyond exist now to sustain their army. Where would we hide? There are over a hundred of us left.” He shook his head, a look of defeat on his face. “I have pondered it for weeks, and I know a decision must be made soon. We have barely survived this long. And that’s without the threat of impostors. It’s only with my feeble magic that I’ve been able to coax any food at all from this stone.” He stamped the rock face with his boot. “Others have helped, I’ll admit.” His eyes flashed toward me, then away, almost guiltily. “But we are all hungry.”
“There is food not far from here,” Father said. He strode over to where our packs lay, rummaged through them, and produced a fistful of papples. When he returned and held them out, Kiron seemed perplexed.
“Where did you get these?” he asked.
“On the other side of the storm,” I said. “There are fields and fields of them for a hundred miles.”
“And you’ve eaten them? They’re not poison?”
Poison?
I shook my head.
“We’ve been eating them for days,” I said.
“We didn’t see them,” Kiron said. He held the papple up to his nose and sniffed deeply, then smacked his lips, clearly trying to avoid devouring the fruit.
“Go ahead,” I said.
“No,” he said. “Not yet. There are others who need this more than I do. We couldn’t see anything beyond the storm, and the damage we took on trying to get through the wind—well, we haven’t made much effort to escape it after what happened to Finian.”
“Tell me” I said. “What happened to him? Is he alright?”
“Come with me,” he said, pushing off the wall, staring up into the fading light. “We’re not far.”
<
br /> We gathered our things and began to follow. Kiron led us through slim crevices in the rock, a labyrinth of paths that snaked through the mountains. We traveled in silence for half an hour, and while we did, night fell upon us in earnest. I held the staff, a bright light surging from the wood to lead the way. Far above, the twinkling lights of the cosmos shone down through the thin crack in the mountain. I tried to take comfort from the stars. They were the same as they had ever been. But the feeling of foreboding I felt did not diminish as we walked. This was not the reunion with Kiron I had expected.
Finally, my eye caught the flicker of a campfire in the distance. I felt cold to my bones, and I longed to warm myself by the flames. Kiron stopped and turned to us.
“There’s something I should tell you before we see the others,” he said.
Behind him the hunched shape of a woman approached, just recognizable in the moonlight.
“Lissa!” Cait yelped.
She sprang away from us, bounding through the dim light towards the old woman.
I suddenly felt fearful. As cautious as Kiron had been in trusting us, my emotions now mirrored his. I wanted Cait close until we knew for sure that we were safe.
“Cait!” I called.
I brushed past Kiron and started after her. I tripped in the darkness, hitting my knees on the stone. Ignoring the sting, I jumped up again and leapt after her. By the time I reached her, she had jumped up into Larissa’s arms, hugging her around the neck in a vice grip.
“Larissa,” I panted. “It is you.”
Her arms wrapped around Cait, hugging her close as if she were her own child. Her eyes flashed to Kiron, then back to me.
“Is this him, then?” she asked, staring at me appraisingly.
“Far as I can tell,” Kiron said, walking up to us from behind.
“Well, it took you long enough,” she said with a grimace.
I ignored this and watched as Cait pulled away and gazed into Larissa’s face, holding her cheeks in her hands. This seemed to melt Larissa’s ire, and she smiled.
