After a few moments of quiet, she looked up and stared at her brother. “Gods, Nik! I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know, sis. No matter.”
He gave her an understanding smile, trying to be brave and supportive, but the uneasy look in his eyes told a different tale.
She looked up to the large Shapechanger and added, “You, too, Broedi. I’m terribly sorry. It was an accident.”
“Do not worry,” rumbled Broedi. “I have handled worse.”
“How?” pleaded Kenders. “How did I do that?”
A shadow passed over Broedi’s face. “I am not sure. Every Charge and Air mage I know must work for years to do what you did. There is—” He stopped a moment, sighed, and continued, “There was only one other I knew that had such an affinity for the Strands.”
“Who?” asked Kenders.
Broedi remained silent for a few heartbeats, staring intently at her, then Nikalys, and back to her.
“Truly? All of this is unfamiliar to you?”
Nikalys huffed, “Magic and mages? Shapechangers? Lightning from a clear sky? If this is ‘familiar’ for you, I don’t want to know what you think is odd.”
The large man drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Tell me of your parents.”
Kenders glanced at Nikalys, wondering at the out-of-place question.
Meeting her gaze, Nikalys said, “He asked about them last night, too. A few times, in fact.” He glared at Broedi. “Why are you so interested in them?”
Broedi appeared on the verge of saying something before he caught himself. “Their names. What were your parent’s names?”
Nikalys asked, “Why should we tell—?”
“Thaddeus and Marie Isaac,” interjected Kenders. Her interruption earned her a dirty look from Nikalys. Holding his sharp gaze, she said, “Oh, come on, Nik. He helped us, healed us, and didn’t kill us in our sleep. What harm is there in telling him Mother and Father’s name?”
Nikalys frowned but remained silent.
Looking back to Broedi, Kenders found the giant man distracted, staring at the ground, but at nothing in particular. Excitement, hope, worry, and a touch of sadness mussed his stoic, pensive demeanor. She could almost hear him thinking.
Intrigued, Kenders said, “Why do you ask?”
Looking up, Broedi stared at her long enough to make her uncomfortable. “I need to think on this, uora. Please, excuse me for a time.” He immediately strolled away from them, moving to the edge of the campfire’s glow to stare into the dark forest.
Kenders gave her brother a searching look. Nikalys shrugged his shoulders and stepped away, making a show of tidying the campsite. He was either pouting that she had given up the names of their parents so readily, or he was giving her time to come to terms with what she had just learned. Regardless, she was grateful for the quiet. At least she was until she began to think about what had become of her life.
This was not fair. None of what had happened was.
She had no wish to be a mage. None whatsoever.
If word reached the Constables that there was a mage in the countryside, they would hunt her down, not resting until they had taken her into custody. After that, she did not know what would happen to her. Captured mages simply disappeared. Most people assumed the obvious.
Playmen’s sagas told of a time when mages had not always been persecuted so, when great heroes had used magic to save the duchies from utter destruction and ruin. Most people in Yellow Mud ridiculed the tales. Only Thaddeus and Marie had not.
Whenever one traveling entertainer or another would regale the village with such a tale, their parents would speak quietly with their children afterwards, telling them magic was not something to fear. They claimed it was a tool, no different from a spade. You could use the spade to cultivate, or you could use it to smash in a man’s head. Either way, the spade was a spade. The person who wielded it was what mattered.
As Kenders sat alone against the tree trunk and her initial shock faded, she realized something. She might be a mage, but she was still the same person. As long as she never, ever did what she had done last night, nothing needed to change. If she did not want to do magic, she would not do it. It was a simple decision to make.
She looked over at the giant man staring into the forest. He was obviously a mage. More importantly, he seemed a decent soul. Perhaps he could teach her how to control these Strands. Not for her to use, but rather so she could suppress them.
At that moment, Kenders decided she would like Broedi to stay with them, regardless of where they were headed. She wondered if he would be interested in accompanying them. Unfortunately, they had almost nothing with which to pay him. She frowned, wishing she had looked a little harder for coin in Yellow Mud.
As she was staring at the Shapechanger, Broedi’s head snapped up and turned to the southwest. His nostrils flared as he took two quick sniffs of air, reminding Kenders of a barncat when it caught the scent of a mouse. Confusion flickered over his face. His eyes narrowed and his lips twitched. His entire body went rigid. Kenders was tense just by looking at him.
The Shapechanger turned, strode back to the fire, and sat across from her. In a quick, almost brusque tone, he said, “I have questions to which I would like answers.” He glanced at Nikalys. “Join us, uori.”
Nikalys was standing a few paces away, leaning against the trunk of an oak tree, clearly upset. She watched him closely as he came over and settled next to her. After everything else, Nikalys now had to deal with having a mage for a sister.
Without preamble, Broedi rumbled, “Tell me exactly what happened in Yellow Mud.”
Kenders threw an accusing glare at her brother. “Nik!”
Broedi lifted a quick hand and said, “Your kaveli has told me nothing. He wanted to wait to speak until you were awake.”
She stared back at Broedi, her mind reeling. If Nikalys had not said anything, then Broedi should have no way of knowing from where they hailed. Full of new worry, she kept her mouth shut. Nikalys remained silent, too.
“You are wary to speak,” rumbled Broedi. “Normally, that would be a good thing.” A slight frown touched his lips. “But not now.” His gaze flicked over her shoulders, out into the darkened woods behind her.
Leaning forward, Broedi said, “Here is what I propose: I will tell you what I know, and you correct me if I go astray.” When neither of them answered, Broedi said, “Someone unleashed a terrible Weave on your home, a massive fibríaal of Water it would seem. When I came upon the remains, I could still feel the power in the displaced Strands.” He looked directly at Kenders. “I know you are not responsible, uora. You do not have the control to do what was done.”
Kenders held his gaze, her uneasiness growing as Broedi continued.
“Whether by Greya’s grace or Ketus’ luck, you two were not in town when the wave struck. You did come into the ruins afterwards—not wise at all—but quickly fled.” His eyebrows drew together as his gaze shot over their heads, out into the nighttime forest.
Something in the forest had him worried. If the Shapechanger who had faced down three wolves was anxious, she figured she should be as well. Kenders glanced over her shoulder, but beyond the glow of the campfire, she could see nothing. A nervous chill danced up her spine.
“Uora, listen to me.”
Broedi’s insistent tone drew her attention back to camp.
“You headed east, avoiding the main road. Another wise choice, were it not for the wolves. Am I correct so far?”
He paused, waiting for any corrections. Kenders got the impression he did not expect any. He was reciting the story with confidence.
Sighing, Kenders said, “Amazingly so.”
Nikalys shot her an accusing look. “Kenders!”
She answered Nikalys’ hard glare with one of her own. “What? He seems to know pretty much everything that’s happened so far.”
Nikalys turned his glowering stare to Broedi. “How is that exactly?”
“What I have spoken of is easy for someone with my gifts to discover.”
Kenders supposed a man who could become a lynx would have no trouble tracking them down.
Staring at them both, his eyes alert and intense, Broedi said, “I have but one question for you: Do you know why your village was attacked?”
Nikalys’ answer was a derisive laugh paired with a bitter scowl. “You have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself that question.”
“Truly?” asked Broedi with forced calm. “Those who raised you, they told you nothing?”
Nikalys glared at the Shapechanger, his grief raw and plainly exposed.
“Those who ‘raised’ us? You mean our parents? Tell us what, exactly? That one day, a giant wave would flood the entire village, killing everyone we know? No, Broedi, I am sorry. They neglected to tell us anything like that before they had the audacity to drown.”
Feeling sorry for her brother, Kenders muttered, “Nik…”
He shifted his hot glare to her. After a moment, he pressed his lips together, shut his eyes, and exhaled slowly.
Apparently recognizing his lack of tact, Broedi bowed his head. “I ask your forgiveness, uori. My words were callous. Two people important to you are with Maeana now. I am sorry for your loss.”
Nikalys’ eyes shot open. “Two people? Try three! Our brother died, too! And, you know what? The entire blasted town was important to us, not just our family!”
“You have another kaveli?” rumbled Broedi. He seemed taken aback by the information.
“Hah!” exclaimed Nikalys. “There’s something you didn’t know, Shapechanger! Yes, we had an older brother. Jak. He was in the village with our parents when the wave…” Nikalys trailed off, the anger quickly draining from his face, his eyes going unfocused.
Inexplicably, Broedi smiled and let out a sigh of relief. The giant’s reaction seemed entirely out of place, considering the tenor of the conversation.
“Then there is at least one thing I know about that day’s events that the two of you do not. Something I could not make sense of until just now.” Looking over their heads, he called into the night, “Please! Join us!”
Alarmed, Kenders spun around and peered into the dark forest. A few moments later, she heard steps coming through the brush.
* * *
After leaving the Red Sentinels’ encampment, Jak had traveled east long after the sun had vacated the sky, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the soldiers. Grateful for the full belly, he had continued down the road, using the light of White Moon to travel.
When he was a few hours from the Sentinels’ camp, he had checked the teardrop pendant. He had braced himself, remembering the pain from earlier in the day. Instead, the original calming feeling had come over him with only a hint of unpleasantness. What commanded his attention now was the sound of the ringing bell, clearly resonating, but no longer straight away east. Turning, he had searched for its strongest point and decided it was northeast, in the forest.
He knew that once he left the road and headed into the wild, travel would become slower, more difficult, and dangerously treacherous. The light of White Moon was sufficient for moving along a dirt road at night, but in a forested area, its stark light was a curse, casting sharp shadows. One hidden hole and Jak would have a broken ankle.
Nevertheless, the decision to veer from the safety of the road was easy. Nikalys and Kenders were near.
The acrid scent of wood smoke was the first thing he had noticed. Cresting a small rise, he spotted a tiny campsite, its light flickering through a screen of tree trunks. Elated, he was set to rush down to his brother and sister when he had seen that three figures were sitting about the fire, not two.
Worried, Jak had crept closer and discovered a stranger sitting with them. Jak swore his eyes were playing tricks on him as the man looked to be a full head and a half taller than Nikalys, even sitting down.
He sneaked closer still, moving from trunk to trunk as quietly as he could manage. The giant man seemed to stare in his direction once or twice, freezing Jak in mid-step. When the man would look away, Jak resumed his approach. A hundred yards away, he stopped behind a large oak trunk and tried to decide what to do. He had only been standing there few heartbeats when the giant looked right at Jak and, in a deep, baritone voice, boomed, “Please! Join us!”
Jak had been so careful on his approach. No one should have been able to hear him.
He briefly considered shooting the man with an arrow, but he was not entirely sure the giant was a threat. And if the stranger could see him—however implausible—he would most definitely notice Jak readying the bow and arrow, giving him plenty of time to reach out to Nikalys or Kenders and snap a neck.
Drawing a deep breath, Jak moved out from the tree, walked the remaining hundred paces to the edge of the camp, and stepped into the fire’s glow.
Chapter 15: Hillman
A week ago, Broedi had arrived in the region and wandered aimlessly, restless. He felt something was going to happen. He knew it to be true as much as he knew the sky was up.
The problem was he did not know what was going to happen.
Or why.
Or how.
Or when.
That was the problem with Thonda’s gift. His sixth sense was never specific.
He had been sitting on a log beside Oligurtears Lake, smoking his pipe, and staring at the water’s surface when Eliza’s beacon had called to him. Within moments, he had been in the air, soaring east and had reached Yellow Mud two days past. Dismayed by the slaughter he found, he nonetheless sifted through the collapsed buildings of the ruined village, dreading what he might uncover. After a thorough investigation of the area, he had come away knowing three things.
A pair of individuals—related, according to the commonality of their scent—had headed east two days prior. The scent of another fortunate soul appeared beneath an oak tree and traveled south but a day before Broedi’s arrival, along with the echoes of the beacon. Finally, the surprising yet unmistakable scent of an ijul covered an outcrop west of town. Broedi had traced the ijulan scent to the edge of the devastation, where it suddenly disappeared, leaving the trail cold.
Broedi had been torn.
South or east.
Beacon or brother and sister.
He had chosen east and sprinted after the pair. If the destruction around him was any indication, they were in grave danger. He would worry about Eliza and Aryn’s package later.
When Jak emerged from the forest’s gloom, Broedi glanced at the leather casing peeking over the young man’s shoulders and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. One of Broedi’s problems was solved.
He had caught the quiet rustle of footsteps the moment Jak had moved over the rise and marked his scent long before that, the same one he had found beneath the tree and in the barrel. Truth be told, the young man had been impressively quiet on his approach. Without the advantage granted by his gifts, Broedi would never have known he was there.
Once in the glow of the fire, Jak stopped, keeping a careful eye on Broedi. A flash of silver drew Broedi’s gaze to the talisman hanging from Jak’s neck. The necklace prompted a wistful smile to creep over Broedi’s lips even as his confusion deepened.
Shock held Nikalys and Kenders in place for a moment before both jumped up and ran to embrace Jak while shouting with joy. Broedi sat silently, letting them have their happy reunion. After the tragedy they had all suffered, they deserved a lone cheerful moment.
As the trio rejoiced, Broedi closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, hoping nothing had followed the boy here.
Smoke from the fire.
The scent of oak and ash.
The minty hint of grannok bush.
Minerals and mud from a nearby creek.
Musty fur of a rabbit in the bushes.
Nothing was out of the ordinary. Shutting out the young ones’ babbling and jubilant laughter, he listened carefully.
&nbs
p; The soft rustle of the leaves.
The clicking of a squirrel’s tiny claws against the bark as it ran along a branch.
Water flowing in the creek.
Trees creaking as they bent in the slight breeze.
They were alone. For now.
Doubting that would remain so, Broedi opened his eyes and looked to the young trio. While he would like to know how the Cabal had found the children, it did not matter. They had.
The three children had lowered their voices and were now speaking in hushed whispers. Even though he heard every word spoken, he pretended he did not.
Nikalys and Kenders asked how Jak had survived.
Eyeing Broedi suspiciously, Jak hissed, “Later.”
They asked if anyone else was alive.
Jak whispered, “Later.”
They wanted to know how he found them.
Exasperated, Jak muttered, “Blast it! Not now!”
The young man was rightly wary to speak before a stranger. That was good.
Broedi rose from the ground and stepped forward to stand before them. They seemed so young to him. Kenders was a girl, not a woman. He wondered if either boy could grow a beard.
The trio fell silent. Jak slid his arms around the others—a protective gesture that did not go unnoticed—and stared up at Broedi, his eyes full of defiance, distrust, and only the barest flicker of fear.
Broedi knew he had to choose his words carefully. They needed to know the truth, but now was not the right time. After what they had been through, he would not risk shocking them further. He let out a short, inaudible sigh. This was going to be harder than he had hoped.
Eyeing Jak, he rumbled, “Good days ahead, uori. My name is Broedi.”
Before responding, Jak glanced at his brother and sister. Nikalys and Kenders’ relatively relaxed attitude seemed to ease his anxiety some. Looking back to Broedi, he replied in a steady voice, “And good memories behind. I am Jak.”
Broedi indicated the leftover rabbits and quail next to the fire. “If you are hungry, please eat.”
Jak barely glanced at the roast meat and sticks. “Thank you. That is kind of you to offer.” He did not move.
Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) Page 13
