by B. T. Narro
Andar was too shocked to reply. He didn’t understand how people could grab anything from the other realm without leaving this one, but this was the commander of the army. He must know what he was talking about.
“I thought the creatures were the ones making the rifts,” Andar said.
“Some summoners do command their pets to help them make the rift from the other side, but not all creatures have power over Esitry. Others are strong enough to cross between realms without the summoner’s help.” The commander looked down at Andar curiously. “You know more about this than I would’ve guessed. Did your father teach you?” There was suspicion in his voice. So Andar hadn’t completely convinced the man after all that his father was an innocent citizen.
“No, he didn’t. I’ve read a few books about it.”
“I see. That explains how you’ve learned some but not all.”
Andar felt his eyes go wide. The commander really knew all there was to know about this? “Please teach me!”
“I must be going now, but I’ll tell you what I can the next time something calls me down here.” He began to walk away, but Andar called after him.
“Please, sir. What about Artistry? How does a person with skill start practicing with it?”
The commander didn’t turn as he walked away, though he did provide an answer. “If they are lucky enough to be born with money to their name, then they pay for a tutor. If their family has substantial coin, they can later pay for time in front of a rift like this one.”
Andar ran to catch up to the commander. “What do they do here?”
“Go back and eat your supper. Then I expect you to bathe; it’s why I gave you a badge. Keeping clean is the best way to stay healthy. Bring these dirty clothes with you to the bathing house tomorrow to clean them. Alternate between sets that are clean. Understand?”
“Yes, but please help me with that one last question. What do these mages do with the excess Artistry that helps them train?”
“They make their first links and then practice them over and over. That is all.”
Of course; it was obvious. Andar thanked the commander for his time, then went back to eat. He focused not on his food but on trying to make a connection to the Artistry he knew to be in the air. He didn’t know how, though, and became frustrated that he hadn’t asked.
Then again, the commander hadn’t known how summoners communicated with their creatures. He probably didn’t know exactly how mages communicated with Artistry either, for Rolan didn’t seem to be an Ascendant.
Andar wasn’t sure if he was thinking of the term “mage” correctly. There was so much more he needed to ask the commander, but he supposed he could be patient.
No, he couldn’t, but he had to wait nonetheless.
He recalled the first and only time he’d felt some sort of link. It was when his father had tested him and Leo to see if they might one day be Ascendants. One of them was to choose an item from the bedroom and the other was to connect to the item in some way so that he knew what it was even without seeing it. Both Andar and Leo had failed to make a connection to anything except at the very end of the test, when Leo had taken the coins from underneath Andar’s bed that Andar had earned from thieving. Andar hadn’t known that Leo had discovered the coins, but that didn’t matter. He knew exactly what Leo had done—grabbed a handful of them and held them behind his back as he returned to the kitchen.
But did Andar feel a connection to the coins…or was it to Leo? It was hard to remember the specific feeling, but Leo had felt it as well. Andar had begun to notice other things about Leo that he couldn’t explain. It was as if Andar knew what his brother was feeling, and not just by guessing. It was like he could smell it or hear it, but it was neither of those things. It almost felt as though he could talk to Leo even when they were silent.
So how was Andar supposed to use that to create his first link in this Tisary? He was lost. Eventually there was no more food to nibble on, no more water to sip. He felt silly sitting here staring at the summoner. He was excited to return home to tell Leo and Rygen everything he’d learned, even if he hadn’t yet felt Artistry for himself.
It was a long walk out of the cavern, but at least it wasn’t too far to the bathing quarters. Andar showed his badge to the man at the front of the building, then entered and soon felt nearly invisible. Everyone kept their gazes away from others. Andar was used to bathing houses like this, cleaning himself in the same quarters as men of all ages, and this was no different. He didn’t like changing back into his dirty clothing, but he had not brought a spare set.
By the time he made it home, night had come. He saw Rygen cleaning up in the kitchen, and he could feel his brother was not in either bedroom. He wasn’t in the house at all.
“Where’s Leo?” Andar asked with worry.
After starting at Andar’s filthy clothing, Rygen took on a guilty look. “I’m not supposed to say.”
But Andar knew right away. “He’s outside the city hoping our father will find him.”
Rygen stared blankly. “I, um…”
“I know you’re not supposed to say.” Andar sat for a moment to rest his aching feet. He wondered if he should tell only Rygen what he’d learned, and then she could relay it to Leo while they worked together at the Bookbinding Guild. But Andar wanted to see his brother. He missed him, even if they were only apart a day. Leo was so innocent and goodhearted. Rarely would his naivety annoy Andar. Most of the time it was refreshing to talk to him, for it was only then—when he could see the world through Leo’s point of view—that Andar saw glimpses of a different environment than the one that had rubbed him the wrong way for so many years.
“I should get to bed,” Rygen said. But instead of moving, she stood still to watch Andar.
“I need to as well.” He got up and started toward the bedroom that he shared with his brother. Rygen slept in the room their father used to use.
“Andar?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“You’re not going after Leo?” She sounded worried.
Andar thought about looking for his brother, but it was such a long walk and Andar had already come from the other side of the city.
“The night is warm,” he told Rygen. “He won’t freeze if he does decide to sleep out there, which I doubt he will. Besides, my time is better spent sleeping so I can wake early. If I have time on the way to the cavern tomorrow morning, I might find people who wouldn’t mind parting with their coin as much as we would.”
“Oh” was all she said about that. But Andar could tell that she still wanted him to go after Leo.
“He’ll be fine,” Andar assured her. “He did bring the knife, didn’t he?”
She nodded.
“Our father taught us how to defend ourselves.”
“But you ran after him yesterday.”
“Yes, when I could catch up. It’s too late for me to stop him now. He is to learn for himself that it’s a waste of his effort.” Andar expected that to be the end of the conversation, but she still didn’t move. “You’re welcome to go after him if you like.”
Rygen looked at the door and seemed to be thinking about it. Andar wouldn’t allow her to leave if she surprised him by going, for he could stop her easily.
“I guess it is better for Leo to decide,” she said. “I hope nothing happens to him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
She walked over to Andar and hugged him, to his shock. “Good night.”
It was a quick squeeze that he barely was able to return before she unwrapped her arms. He didn’t know what else to say as she went to her room and closed her door. The hasty embrace seemed strange at first, for he and Rygen had never hugged before, but then he pictured her hugging her mother each night…a mother who was gone now. Andar was the closest thing she had to a guardian. He should’ve given her a warmer embrace and let her know everything would be fine.
After changing and getting into bed, Andar tried to relax. But he c
ouldn’t sleep as he stared across the small room at his brother’s empty bed. He was exhausted and clean, the two things that usually led to deep sleep. Instead, he felt a longing for an earlier time. He and his brother used to work at the same farm. After dinner each evening, their father would teach them swordsmanship with training swords—shoddy weapons made of splintered wood.
Andar wanted Leo to come home where he knew Leo would be safe.
Later, Andar awoke to the sound of someone opening the door to the house. He quickly rushed out of the bedroom but stopped when he saw the silhouette of what could only be his brother.
“Sorry to wake you,” Leo said. “I didn’t see Father, and I changed my mind about sleeping there.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” The two of them hugged.
Rygen opened the door to her room and came out. “Is everything all right?”
“I woke you, too?” Leo grumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“I suppose I won’t be doing that again soon,” Leo said.
“You can if you want to,” Rygen said sheepishly.
Of course Leo could, Andar thought. We can all do whatever we want now. Andar hated how everything reminded them that they had lost the last parents they had. Something needed to be said to put them in a better mood.
“I learned a lot today about Artistry and summoning.”
“What?” Leo asked with excitement.
Rygen came closer. “Did you say summoning?”
“Yes, I even met Ascendants and summoners using the rift to train. But—are you ready for the best part, Leo?”
He nodded. If there was more light, Andar imagined he’d see a twinkle in his brother’s eye.
“I think I can figure out a way for us to use the rift to train just like the Ascendants do.”
“How?” Leo’s voice was tinged with excitement.
“I’ll let you know more when I know more myself.”
Rygen yawned, covering her mouth. “Why would you two train?”
Andar was surprised Leo hadn’t told her that their father had tested them and found that they might have skill with Artistry. He showed his surprise to his brother with a look. It was too dark for them to see each other’s faces very well, but Andar knew that didn’t matter.
“I didn’t say anything to Rygen because I’d only felt it that one moment,” Leo explained, “and I’ve wondered since then if I’d imagined it. It was quick, after all.”
Perhaps the feeling wasn’t as strong for his brother as it was for Andar, because Andar knew he had felt something, and no amount of time could make him change his mind.
“You felt it, Leo, because I did, too.” Andar addressed Rygen next. “Leo and I have some control over Artistry, I think. Our father helped us discover it, but he was forced out of the city before we could start training.”
“But neither of us have done anything with it since,” Leo informed Rygen. “We’ve both tried, haven’t we Andar?”
“We’re both young,” he reminded his brother. “Time will only make it easier.”
“I just don’t know anymore.”
Who was this ten-year-old boy standing in the kitchen? Leo had always been the excitable one between the two of them.
“We can always talk more another time,” Leo said. “We should be sleeping now.”
“Yes, Father,” Andar teased. “Anything you say.”
◆◆◆
Andar awoke again during the night as he heard someone in the kitchen. He was much too tired at that point to get up. It was probably just Rygen. Perhaps she was looking for something to eat because she was hungry. Unfortunately there was nothing edible in the house; Andar had already looked before going to bed earlier.
He fell back asleep only to awake sometime later to Rygen bumping a chair in the kitchen. She’s still up? Too worried to leave it be, Andar got out of bed just as Leo was doing the same.
“Is that Rygen?” Leo whispered.
“Think so,” Andar whispered back.
They walked into the kitchen, but it was completely dark.
“Rygen?” Leo asked.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep before we wake Andar.”
“I’m up as well,” Andar said. “What are you doing?”
She let out a sigh. Andar could barely see her shadow in the dark kitchen as she sat in the nearby chair she had moved.
“I was just…”
But it was all she said.
“Nothing,” she finally concluded. “You two should go back to bed.”
“What is it?” Leo asked.
“I don’t like how it’s going to sound.”
“I’ll believe you,” Leo assured her.
“No, it’s embarrassing. We should all be back in bed.” She stood and made her way past them.
“Rygen,” Leo said a little harshly. “Please.”
She let out her breath loudly. “I’d really hoped not to wake you, but I suppose there’s no letting it go. It’s probably just my imagination, but…I’ve been sensing something.”
Andar was exhausted, eager to finish this conversation so he could get back in bed, but there was something about Rygen’s grim tone that made him realize that this was something real, at least to her.
“Don’t tell me you think it’s a ghost?” Andar prodded. “Because they’re not real.”
“Not a ghost,” she said. “But something.”
“Like a spirit?” Leo asked, his voice rising. Everyone knew what he was hinting at.
“I know it’s not my mother,” Rygen said, though Andar couldn’t be sure she was telling the truth.
“What is it, then?” Leo asked.
“So the two of you haven’t felt anything in this house?”
“No,” Andar answered.
“I haven’t either,” Leo said. “What does it feel like?” He finally sounded as though he believed Rygen, but Andar was more skeptical. He believed Rygen felt something, but Andar had felt many things as well. None of them had brought him out of his bed to stumble around the kitchen during the night.
“I can’t describe it except that it feels familiar.”
“Are you sure you don’t think it’s your mother?” Andar asked, growing impatient.
“I know it’s not my mother,” Rygen assured him with irritation this time. “I remember the moment when I realized she was gone and wouldn’t come back…and that feeling has never left me.” After a silent pause, she continued. “This is something I haven’t felt before, but I think it feels me too.”
“It?” Andar couldn’t help from scoffing. “So it is something like a ghost. I have to get back to bed. I’m sorry, Rygen. Please sleep.”
“It’s probably nothing,” she said. “Please forget I brought it up. Good night.” She hurried to her bedroom.
Andar would stand out here no longer. He went back to his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.
“That was harsh,” Leo told him.
“So is what I’m about to say next,” Andar said. “I’m not talking about this anymore right now.”
“Fine.”
Andar was just starting to doze off again when a thought made him sit up.
“What?” Leo asked.
Everything Andar had learned today started to connect, making him wonder if Rygen really had felt something alive after all, something that certainly wasn’t in her imagination.
CHAPTER FIVE
Leo worked beside Rygen in the Bookbinding Guild all morning, and they didn’t see Gartel come in. The guild master was usually there before Leo and Rygen showed up at sunrise, but he had been late every day since the king’s army came and drove out all the rebels. It was strange to think that Leo’s father had been “driven out” as well. The army had wanted to kill him, kill Leo’s father! They forced him to flee the city with little means of returning. All Father had been doing was meeting with the leader of the rebels, Erisena, to tell her he would not be joining the
m. It wasn’t fair.
Rygen didn’t talk much these days. Even when she did, it wasn’t like before. She usually only spoke the words that needed to be spoken, those related to work or food. She and Leo no longer discussed the stories they had read together. They no longer played any games. He wanted things to go back to how they were before, but he didn’t know how to make that happen.
The guild master finally came through the door near midday. He had a concerned look on his face as he headed straight to Rygen.
“I went to visit the bakery where your mother works,” Gartel said. “I wanted to make sure she was all right after everything that happened, but she wasn’t there.”
Leo wanted to protect Rygen from having to answer the question that both of them knew was coming, but he couldn’t exactly tell his guild master to be quiet.
Rygen’s eyes glistened with tears. “She was…” A tear slipped out. She wiped it. “She was killed.”
Gartel clutched his chest as if in pain. He was tall with a short beard of gray that was a little longer and scruffier these days. His brown eyes usually appeared uninterested in whatever Leo or Rygen had to tell him, but they were wide and unblinking now.
“What happened?” he asked with a soft voice, as if the words were hard to speak.
Leo knew that the answer was too difficult for Rygen. He took it upon himself to speak instead.
“It’s best if Rygen doesn’t have to talk about it.”
She shook her head. Her tears had abated, at least for the moment. “No,” she said. “I want people to know what happened. It’s the only way there might be justice.”
Leo was surprised at the anger he heard in her voice. He had seen her angry only once, when Leo had forgotten to return one of the books he’d promised he would by a certain day. Rygen had confronted him after Gartel came close to banning her from the Bookbinding Guild. It had been akin to watching a butterfly grow fangs and attack.
