Miren closed the door and glared at the woman who wanted to replace Ran’s missing mom. As if I would allow this harpy to sink her claws into my brother. She’d rend Sarn into bloody pieces. At nineteen, she was a year younger than Sarn and obsessed with him.
“What do you want? My brother left you plenty of food.”
The decision still smarted, and his tone made it clear he’d objected. The Foundlings were a bunch of leeches. He fixed his eyes on the uneven floor to avoid looking at her. Toes blackened by dirt protruded from under a grubby skirt that was torn in places to reveal teasing glimpses of her equally filthy legs. The Foundlings’ cave had a freaking spring cascading into a small pool. A bucket and a rag would go far in reducing her body odor.
“If you need more food, you know where to get it. My brother can’t do everything nor should he.”
Miren clenched his hands into fists. Leaving these needy bitches and bastards had been the best decision Sarn had ever made. A decision I engineered, of course.
“He’s got a demanding job and a son to raise. He doesn’t have time to play servant for you lot.”
The door handle turned, but Miren held the door closed, leaving Ran out of the conversation.
“I didn't come about food,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I didn’t come to talk to you.”
“Too bad because I’m all you’re getting. You can tell me your latest demand, and I’ll think about passing it on, or you can go to hell.”
The latter option was the preferred choice, and the sour look she threw Miren made it clear she understood. Good, at least she was clear on the situation.
Ran patted the door. “Who’s out there?”
“No one important, go back to bed,” he told the boy but Ran never listened to him.
Ran’s head bumped the door, and a muffled “ow” resounded as his nephew put his ear to the crack. Damn the little tyke and his never-ending curiosity.
“Uncle Miren?”
Miren sighed. I should go back inside before Ran raises a ruckus. The slightest note of alarm in that boy’s voice would wake Sarn from even the deepest slumber. A spark of jealousy ignited in the pit of his belly just thinking about that.
“Look I came to talk to your brother. Where is he?” Morraina’s strident tone dragged Miren’s gaze down to hers.
He was around six-feet tall by now and fast catching up to his giant of a brother, but not fast enough. Sarn still had at least six inches on him.
“Sleeping and I should be too. Tell me what you want so I can get back to that.”
Morraina crossed her arms over her chest, covering up the ample cleavage on display.
“Wake him up. I need to talk to him.”
“No, you don’t. You need to talk to me, and I’ll pass your message onto my brother when he wakes up.”
Or not at all, it depended on the request. If she’d come to convince Sarn to move back in, she could shove that request where no soap ever went. We're better off on our own, just the three of us.
“Uncle Miren?”
Ran’s voice rose to a whine, and he punctuated his question with another open-handed slap to the door.
“Ran, sweetheart, go wake your Papa.”
Morraina flashed a predatory smile at Miren half hid by her stringy hair.
“Don’t do it Ran. You let your father sleep, do you hear me?”
Miren turned, so he spoke into the door. A small “yes” greeted his ears, and Miren’s shoulders sagged in relief.
“You can't divide a little boy’s loyalties. Family always comes first.”
Miren tightened his grip on the door handle and narrowed his eyes at Morraina.
“You’re not here on anyone’s behalf but your own. You want to wreck our home. Well, I won’t let you. Neither will my brother. You’re transparent, and we see your rotten core.”
“She’s not rotten,” Will said rounding the bend. He took in the scene with a glance. “Take it back. We’re all friends here.”
“Are we?”
Standing with his back against the door, Miren glared at Morraina.
“Even her?”
“You’re cruel. I don’t know why Sarn puts up with you. All you do is nag, nag, nag!”
Morraina spun on her heel, and her stained skirts flared as she walked off in a huff.
“Yeah well, at least I bathe. When was the last time you and soap met?”
Morraina glared at him, and Miren turned smug eyes on his friend who’d gone apoplectic.
“Miren!”
Will spluttered, his face flushing as he loosened the laces of his tunic.
“Why can’t you two get along? You never used to pick on her.”
“Yeah well, she never used to drive me crazy. Why is she so obsessed with my brother? He can’t stand her.”
Will nodded and turned bruised eyes on Miren.
“Look, I’m tired. Morraina woke me up out of a sound sleep, and she gave me demands and attitude when I opened the door.” Miren lied.
“Sorry.”
Will kicked a pebble, and it skittered down the tunnel. Piss colored lumir threw washed out yellow light on his friend making his skin appear sallow. What are you mixed up in now?
“What is it?”
Miren stood straighter. Did I misjudge Morraina? Did some serious matter bring her to our door?
“What’s happened?”
Will scrubbed both hands through his lank hair.
“It’s nothing serious yet but—”
Will lost the thread of his thoughts and stared at the floor in search of words.
“Time.”
Will looked at Miren and met his gaze.
“Time?”
Miren laughed but inside he seethed—not this again. He shook his head.
“You and everyone else.”
“It's just an hour,” Will said. “Did you say he’s back?”
“Yeah, he walked in a couple of hours ago and said nothing about what happened.”
Miren ground his molars and counted silently to ten.
“He’s okay, right? I saw him fall—I thought I’d never see him again—”
Will’s voice trailed off as he relived Sarn’s kidnapping.
“Thanks for telling me.”
Will nodded, not hearing, or choosing to ignore his acidic tone.
“I’m glad he’s back. He’s okay, right?”
‘Okay’ was a sliding scale for Sarn, so Miren nodded.
“Uncle Miren?”
Ran slammed his palm against the door. Even muffled, it sounded too loud.
“Who’re you talking to?”
Miren sighed and opened the door.
“Come see for yourself.”
Before Ran could say or do anything, Will crouched in front of the curious boy and advanced his case to a miniature version of Sarn.
“Hi Ran. I came to ask for time. Not for the older Foundlings or me but the young ones. They miss your father. They look up to him.”
“Papa is big,” Ran replied, not understanding what Will had meant.
“Just one hour, it would mean so much to them.”
“Get in line.”
Miren eased his nephew away from the door so he could enter. Will tried to see in, but Miren blocked the doorway.
“You want them looking up to Metran? Because they will if your brother doesn’t appear soon.”
Metran—the name jolted Miren. He glared at his friend as Ran squirmed and tried to see around his leg.
“Who’s Metran?”
“A bad person,” Miren told his nephew. He narrowed his eyes at Will. “He’s been hanging around the Foundlings, hasn’t he?”
Will nodded. “Not every day but often enough to make an impression.”
“Why? He left five years ago and made his own life.”
Miren’s gaze fell to his nephew, whose head sprouted between his legs. The boy looked up at him, grinned at his ingenuity, and straightened up from his crouch.
�
�He doesn’t know about Ran,” Will said, reading Miren’s half-formed worries. “How can he? When he left the Foundlings, Beku didn’t know she was with child.”
“When did he start coming around?”
“About a month ago, I think. I’m not here when he comes.”
Of course, Metran would visit when no one who disliked him was present. Miren ground his molars again. Should I tell my brother about this? Sarn had a right to know. But did it matter if Metran was sniffing around the Foundlings?
“Who’s Metran? Why’s he a bad man?”
Ran looked first to Miren then to Will for an answer. Neither gave one.
Of course, it matters. Miren almost slapped himself. The Foundlings babysat Ran every day for a few hours so Sarn could get some sleep. Every day except today because I cut all my classes.
Fear iced the jealous flame burning in his gut. Miren scooped up his nephew and hugged him hard. Ran returned the embrace and laid his head on his uncle’s shoulder.
Metran hates Sarn. Damn, damn, and double damn—one look would tell Metran who’d sired Ran. The scoundrel had to remain ignorant of the precious child resting in his arms.
Will had followed the exchange and he tensed as he came to the same conclusion. He extended a hand and patted Ran’s back.
“How often does he come?”
“Once a week.”
“How long does he stay?”
“Not long, a quarter of an hour I think. He plays the visiting prince, collects his accolades then departs.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest but not before Miren saw his friend’s hands curl into fists.
“You’ll tell—”
Will’s voice trailed off, and his eyes widened.
“Tell me what?” Sarn asked around a yawn.
Ran reached for his father and missed because Miren moved so his brother could lean against the doorpost.
“Why didn’t you tell me someone kidnapped you?”
Miren’s question stopped his nephew’s fretting but had no effect on his half-awake brother.
Sarn glanced at Will halting their friend’s retreat.
“You saw that happen?”
Will raised both hands in surrender. He was caught in a deadly crossfire and knew it. Will opened his mouth, but no words emerged, so he nodded, and Sarn echoed his nod. Miren fumed and shot angry glares at his friend and his brother in turn.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“No problem. You’d have done the same for me.”
Will edged toward the bend in the tunnel representing safety.
When Sarn made no move to explain what he and Will were not talking about, Miren rounded on his brother.
“So, spill. What happened? What are you thanking Will for? Because you aren’t thanking him for telling me. And while we’re on that subject, why did I have to find out from my friend instead of my brother?”
Sarn ignored the invitation to explain himself. Those glorious green eyes unfocused and the arms crossed over his chest fell to his sides. Emotion fled his face. All kinds of things—none of them verbal—passed behind those twin rings of emerald flame as they drew everything and everyone into them.
Miren snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face.
“Hey, come back to me.”
Sarn blinked and rubbed his eyes breaking the spell.
“Where did you go?”
“I don’t know—”
Sarn shook his head; his voice was a thread, and it snapped.
“I think I need to lie down.”
Sarn staggered toward the sheet-wrapped straw affair they pretended was a mattress. Miren put his nephew down. Worry pinched Ran’s face as he crawled into the arms waiting to gather him in.
“Papa’s hurt?”
“No, just—tired.”
Sarn had almost said something else, but his magic had forced him to change it.
What did you almost say? Miren pursued that question after he threw the deadbolt. Landing on the mattress beside Sarn, he prepared to do verbal battle.
“Tell me what happened. I’m fourteen, not four. I can handle it and, it couldn’t have been that bad if you’re here to talk about it.”
Ran shot his uncle a glare at the mention of his age and the implied insult. Miren ignored it but patted his nephew on the head to mollify him.
Silence reigned, and Miren bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making any more demands. He’d piece the story together from whatever tidbits his brother gave him. Damn Sarn and his secrecy to the coldest pit of hell.
“At dawn, I went aboard a ship to unload something. I felt a sharp jab, and everything went black. I woke up in the middle of the forest, and I spent the whole day trying to get back.”
“You didn’t tell me because you thought I couldn’t handle it.”
Miren shook his head. Anger boiled his blood and perhaps his bones too.
Sarn had handed him the edited version again. More had happened, but he’d get nothing more out of his brother tonight. Miren bit his lip to keep from spewing the hateful words burning on his tongue.
“No, I didn’t want to worry you. It's done and over.”
Sarn caught his brother’s eyes, and his irises ignited. Green fire spun creating its own vortex, and it drew Miren into those emerald depths. He fell toward old secrets Sarn kept from him because his elder brother was a bloody damned fortress.
“I won’t let it happen again.”
Sarn slammed his fist down on the mattress then glanced away, breaking the partial gaze lock.
“What did Will want?”
“It’ll keep until tomorrow,” Miren lied. “I need to do a bit of research. You know how they are—” Miren waved in the general direction of the Foundlings, “always jumping at shadows. You’d think their numbers would prevent it, but they don't.”
Will just handed me the perfect opportunity to prove I'm trustworthy. Tomorrow he’d thank Will and ensure Ran’s silence on the matter. At least tomorrow, the boy would stay with Sarn all day, giving Miren time to come up with a plan to safeguard his nephew. He fell asleep still scheming about tomorrow.
A patch of shadow cartwheeled across the room the instant Miren’s breathing slowed. The sudden movement broke Sarn out of the light doze he’d fallen into while waiting. Ending the acrobatic run with a flourish, Shade wobbled a bit before dropping into a crouch.
Why's the entire world dropping in for a visit tonight? Sarn rubbed his tired eyes.
“Boo,” Shade said. His friend’s smoke-ravaged voice gave the word a spine-tingling edge. Mottled gray fabric hid Shade’s face, but two almond-shaped holes allowed his friend to see out.
“I saw you sneak in behind my brother.”
The magic had also pointed Shade out the instant Sarn had awoken.
Shade pounded a fist into an open palm and indulged in some head shaking.
“One day soon I’ll sneak up on you, you’ll see. Oh yes, you’ll see how sneaky Shade can be.”
After delivering that rhyme, Shade pushed to a stand. His friend swept a cloak draped arm out in a dramatic gesture then sat down hard. More head shaking followed, the kind signaling a dizzy spell.
“Are you on something?”
“You know my drug of choice is life itself. From its marrow, I suck all for myself.”
“Are you drunk? Because you’re making less sense than you usually do.”
“Only on the wine of life my friend, join me in the dance of ages where the—ah—”
His androgynous friend muttered while seeking a word to rhyme other than 'coin.'
Shade had survived a fire many years ago, and the experience had warped body, voice, and psyche. By the time Sarn had met Shade, the whole head-to-toe gray cloth ensemble had become a habit, leaving no hint of gender.
Sarn shook his head and got up. Nobody took care of anyone without him around. Shade rose, but he set a hand on his odd friend's shoulder.
“No, you sit here and watch my son.”
Ran opened an eye. Recognizing Shade, he wriggled into a comfy position, so he could track his father’s every move.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fix something to eat so—”
Sarn trailed off. In his head, he referred to Shade without specifying a gender. Applying the pronoun ‘it’ to a living person felt wrong.
“Shade doesn’t pass out.”
Sarn patted his son’s shoulder, and Ran nodded. When he turned to make good on his plan, Shade caught his sleeve.
“You trust me to—?”
“You’re the one who told me he existed.”
Sarn let the sentence hang. Four years later, the truth still stung. Ran’s mother had planned to raise their child on her own without ever telling him he had a son. Sarn pulled a box from a crenellation high on the cave wall and fought the urge to smash it. Instead, he withdrew the lumir crystals. Magic coated his skin protecting Sarn from their fiery touch as he heated some of the leftover stew.
Beku's gone—either dead or fled. Ran's my son, and I'm raising him as best I can.
“You don’t have to starve. I’ve always got something. Usually, it’s edible.”
Shade made no reply, and the silence suited Sarn. He could dig out a reason for Shade’s visit later when memories stopped trying to drag him back to that night.
Four years ago…
Awakening from a nightmare, Sarn looked straight into Shade’s eyes. A gaze lock seized him, dropping Sarn down a fiery well of pain. His flesh melted as the fire roasted him—no—Shade alive. This was Shade’s memory, and it was shattering.
Something had interrupted the gaze lock. Sarn struggled to focus on the gray form leaning over him as the disorientation faded.
“What’s happened?”
Words tumbled out of Shade’s mouth—baby—and Beku’s name followed by, “you must come now.”
Sheets scratched as they fell away. Cold metal met his bare soles when he descended the ladder from the triple stack of bunk beds in the Rangers’ Barracks.
Hurrying through empty corridors, the word ‘baby’ beat a metronome of doom in Sarn’s brain. Whose baby? What trouble was it in? Why fetch me?
Curse Breaker: Books 1-4 Page 17
