It was a surprise, then, when he took a set of shackles from the drawer and clanked it on the table. Kutan’s face darkened, and he recoiled. Whym and Tedel stared with open-mouthed concern. Seph paid no attention to their reactions. “There’s something you can do for me, though.” He took out a pair of brown pants, the loose-fitting one-size-fits-all style worn by the house slaves in Colodor. They were made to fold over in the front and had a cord sewn to the back used to cinch them around the waist. The extra material was then flipped over the cord, a counterweight preventing the pants from falling. “I’ve got a package I need delivered, and it’s too far for Lily to go alone.”
“I’ll do it,” Whym volunteered. He detested the thought of again wearing shackles, but knew Kutan and Tedel were more acutely affected. Plus, after being cooped up for so long, he’d welcome the prospect of a trip through Colodor—even while pretending to be a slave.
“I was hoping Tedel might be willing.” Seph looked at Tedel, who was still glowering at the metal restraints.
Maybe he wants to speak with Kutan and me alone. We haven’t had a chance yet with Tedel always around. Maybe it’s some news about Stern or the resistance. Whym trusted Tedel, but not enough to risk the safety of Seph and his family.
“I…I guess.” Tedel shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the metal restraints.
Whym held up the pants to try to lighten the mood. “At least this outfit’s better than the ones we arrived in.” No one smiled.
Without acknowledging Tedel’s stricken expression, Seph handed him a heavy brown coat to wear with the pants. “You’ll go this afternoon when it’s warmer.”
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After the midday meal, the three retired to their quarters for a brief rest before returning to the workshop. “Told you,” Kutan needled Tedel the moment they arrived. “He’s getting you practice for once we’ve left. When men own slaves, they don’t give them up without a fight.” Tedel scowled but said nothing.
Whym moved between them. The shackles had already put them all on edge. He worried the verbal sparring might devolve into fisticuffs. “I’ve said it before. I’m not leaving without Tedel. He’s going with us.” He shot a disapproving look at Kutan.
“What if this master of yours never arrives? He’s already late, right?” Tedel tugged at his fingers, lines of concern squeezing his brow.
“Doesn’t matter if he’s late. There’s no sense leaving before the snow melts. You want to tromp through the mountains when they’re covered by snow?” Whym was growing tired of repeating this conversation. When the weather turned, they’d leave, Stern or no Stern.
“But that’s my point,” Tedel argued. “No one would expect it if we left now.”
“After everything Seph and Raven have done for us, you’d slip away like a thief in the night?”
Tedel crossed his arms and turned away, jaw clenched, but then turned back. “I won’t be a slave again,” he said forcefully, a steely determination in his expression that worried Whym.
“Don’t kid yourself,” Kutan chided from the corner of the room. “You still are.”
You are not helping! Whym exhaled then grabbed Tedel’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Trust me.” Whym was not only concerned for his friend’s welfare, but Lily’s as well. “Trust me,” he repeated.
The break time was soon over—wasted with more bickering—and they returned to the workshop. Lily was there waiting.
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“What are we delivering?” Tedel asked as Lily led him away from the Tarried Tinker. She wasn’t carrying a package or letter he could see.
“Just come on.” She held the leash attached to his neck restraint, but the rope between them dangled loose.
Tedel followed her through the streets of Colodor, nagged by the feeling that something was wrong. Where’s the package? He kept his eyes trained on the street, as was expected of slaves, but took in as much as he could with his peripheral vision. Then the realization hit him. He stopped. The rope between them grew taut and jerked out of Lily’s hand. I’m the package! He’s sold me, and she’s delivering me to a new master. He forgot decorum and looked about in a panic. There’s nothing I can do. People are everywhere.
Lily stooped to retrieve the leash as if she hadn’t realized Tedel stopping was what had caused her to drop it in the first place.
I must escape. But with these shackles, I wouldn’t even make it to the city wall, much less over it. He realized people were staring and dropped his eyes to the ground. When she started again, he followed, searching for his opportunity. Does she have the key? She must. I don’t want to hurt her, but if she won’t give me the key…
He cursed Whym as they walked. If not for his reassurances, I’d have already escaped. He started to run through scenarios in his mind. The more he pondered the situation, the more certain he was Lily had the key. He’d started incorporating that assumption into his planning. First, I have to get rid of these shackles. Then, I’ll need a change of clothes. If I can find a clothing store with no customers, I bet I could overpower the clerk even still chained. But I’ll need to keep them quiet. One scream, and I’m finished.
They were passing an expansive open area to their right, with small circles of trees spaced between snow-covered fields. He worried they might have already passed the last grouping of shops before their destination. He risked speaking when no one else was close. “Lily, how far away are we?”
“A ways still.” She stopped and looked back at him, frowning at the shackles on his ankles. “Do they hurt?”
Seph had secured the restraints well—tight enough to reduce the friction, but not so tight as to dig into the scars. “Not much,” Tedel said then looked at the concern on her face. I can’t harm Lily. No matter what, I have to make certain she’s safe.
“How ‘bout we take a rest?” Lily suggested. “Papa said to stay on the main street, but if I don’t tell him…” She didn’t finish the thought but angled toward the open area. “Mama used to bring me here before her legs swelled. I know a pretty place by the stream.”
They soon reached the large rock that was their destination. The stream was frozen, the trees around the rock bare of leaves, but the area was quiet and secluded. They could speak there without being overheard, though anyone near could see them clearly. Lily brushed snow off the top of the rock—enough space for her and Tedel both—and hopped up, legs dangling over the side. He sat beside her, feet on the ground.
“Here you go.” She pulled something out from under her jacket that had been hanging around her neck and handed it to him.
The key? He stared at the metal key she offered. It looked like the key Seph had used to lock the shackles. He looked around for someone watching them. “What’s this?”
“For those.” She pointed toward his ankles with a smile, bright-eyed and innocent. “Papa said to wait until we reached the gate, but I figure this is close enough.”
The gate? Tedel suspected the key was a test of his obedience and resisted reaching for it. He remembered Damin doing something similar, having one of the slaves shave him—his neck exposed to the sharpened blade—to demonstrate his mastery. Certainly Seph wouldn’t really send his daughter with a stranger. Tedel looked around for someone watching, but then remembered it was common for slaves to accompany children in Colodor—guardians of a sort. They’d passed several on the way. It’s easy to overlook the risk in a man when you only see a slave. It’s why we Faerie were taken off guard, why mere men were able to drive us from this land.
“Why are you giving this to me?” he asked when she moved the key closer.
“I’m not giving. It’s a trade.” She looked up at him with trusting green eyes and placed it into his hand.
“A trade?” He slipped the key around his neck and let it fall under his jacket. “What do you want in return?”
“The truth,” she answered with the frankness of a child. “Papa wants to know who you really are before you go. He knows you’re not a merchant like you claimed.”
“The truth?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
She looked shocked. “You don’t know what that is?”
“I know what the truth is,” he assured her, then bit his lip in thought before continuing. “But you wouldn’t believe it.”
Lily shook her head. “Mama says I’m too gubble. Says I’ll believe anything—meadow sprites, nasty gnomes who steal from the garden at night, ghosts who come on the wind with the full moon.”
“Faerie?” He delivered the suggestion as if it were another absurdity to add to her list.
“Of course I believe in Faerie.” Her jaw dropped open. “Are you Faerie, too?”
Too? Tedel focused on that last word. She knows others? Maybe they could tell me how to find the Steward. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. If there were other Faerie around, they were probably Vanguard. He doubted they’d look kindly on a runaway like him. “Do I look like a Faerie?” he asked, his question like dipping a toe in water to gauge its temperature.
She frowned. “Faerie don’t look different from other folks.”
“Do I smell like one?” He dipped again.
Her lips pressed together, and she shifted toward him, her wrapped hands on her hips. “Are you Faerie or not?”
“I’m Faerie,” he said, thinking he could later claim it was said in jest.
“Ooh, then watch this.” She unwrapped her hands, dug her tiny fingers into the snow, then closed her eyes.
At first, Tedel had no idea what he was supposed to be watching. Then he noticed the snow was melting—not just the snow touching her fingers, but all the snow on the rock. Even more amazing, he could feel the rock warming through his pants.
“Neat, huh?” She opened her eyes. “Never had anyone to show before. Mama even makes me keep it secret from Papa.”
Are Seph, Lily, and Raven Faerie? I’ve never heard of a whole family crossing the Blight, especially one that’s Pure. “You’re bonded?” he asked, trying to recall whether it was even possible to bond at such a young age. He knew, at least, it was against the law.
Lily shook her head. “Only Papa.”
Tedel couldn’t access Amon’s power, but he’d seen it used. What Lily had done was something no one but the bonded could accomplish. Maybe she’s what I’ve been looking for. If they’ve figured out how to bond without the Unum, I can learn and teach others. I don’t need the Steward if there’s another way. “How can you do that if you’ve not bonded?”
She shrugged. “Mama says it’s a mystery. That’s why I have to keep it secret. Papa keeps his secret as well. He doesn’t even know I know.” Her eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her mouth. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” she asked, her voice muffled by her fingers.
Tedel grabbed his earlobe like he’d been taught as a child. “Swear on my ear. If I lie, it’s yours.” He didn’t know if the custom was the same this side of the Blight, but he knew he was lying. He was certain her parents knew something. He’d risked his life and endured slavery to discover the secret they were hiding. If he needed to reveal her secret to learn theirs, he wouldn’t hesitate.
Lily giggled and seemed to relax. “What would I do with your ear?”
He realized the custom was not the same. “I promise, okay?”
“Okay.” The glimmer returned to her eyes. “Now you show me something.”
Tedel realized she’d assumed he also had access to the power, and wondered how she could know so little as to assume all Faerie possessed magic. “Lily, I can’t.”
Her initial disappointment shifted to anger, and she turned away. “I thought you were serious.”
Tedel had imagined all his life what it must be like to have access to Amon’s power. Now he tried to imagine the torture of having access but being forced to keep it hidden. “Honest, Lily. Most of the Faerie across the Blight aren’t able to bond. We don’t have magic.” He used the word with which he guessed she’d be familiar growing up in Colodor.
He could understand why it was important to hide her ability from the people of Colodor, but it made no sense to him why she’d keep her ability secret from her bonded father. Did Raven and Lily come after Seph? Since she’s too young to bond legally, did Raven arrange it in secret?
Lily turned back, her anger replaced with curiosity. “But I’ve not bonded?”
Tedel reached forward and grabbed her hand but quickly let it go and looked around to make sure no one had noticed. They hadn’t. Who knows how they’d punish such an action from a slave? “Lily, you have no idea how special you are. You’re the only person I’ve ever known who has magic but didn’t bond.” She looked down, chewing her bottom lip as she processed the information.
Tedel, feeling more comfortable, took out the key and turned it in the lock of the shackles around his ankles. They clicked open. “Wait!” She jumped at the sound and reached to stop him. “Not here! You must wait until we reach the gate.”
Grudgingly, Tedel locked them back around his ankles and returned the key to under his coat. “So, when we reach the gate, I’m supposed to leave?”
“Yes.” She acted as if that shouldn’t be a surprise.
“What if I want to return with you?”
A look of fear clouded her complexion. “You can’t! What if you tell the others? I’d be in so much trouble!”
“If I promised to keep the secret?”
Lily looked uneasy, staring at her feet and again chewing her lip. “How about—” she looked up, her expression brightened by an idea—“your other ear? Would you swear it?”
“I swear.” Tedel grabbed his other ear. It seemed to satisfy her. Oh, to be that young and naïve again—to still believe in the honesty of others.
“If you’re going back with me, I guess we don’t need to go all the way to the gate.” She hopped off the rock. Without her magic, the pooled water was already freezing again.
Tedel stood, ready to follow. “You were supposed to give me the key and let me go?”
She flushed. “Don’t tell Papa. He said to wait until we were near the gate to talk.”
“I don’t have any more ears left,” Tedel said. “But I promise.”
“Okay,” Lily laughed and started walking.
Tedel had observed enough slaves on the walk to know better, so they didn’t talk on the way back. As they neared the Tarried Tinker, though, Lily lingered at a turn. “You didn’t finish your story. If you don’t have magic, why would you cross the Blight?”
“I hoped to find my magic here.” I hoped to find you, Lily.
It was the type of answer that should have engendered many more questions, but in her young mind, it must have made sense. She resumed walking, leading him by the leash toward the Tarried Tinker.
When they reached the shop, she dropped the rope and ran inside. “Papa, I’m back!” Seph was working alone, the hired smiths, as well as Whym and Kutan, finished for the day.
The blacksmith turned to greet his daughter, swung her up in the air, but almost dropped her when Tedel entered. “I see that.” He set her down without taking his eyes from the doorway.
Tedel pulled the key from under his jacket and held it for the blacksmith to see. Seph gave him a quick nod of understanding, then turned around to pick up Lily again. “Did you enjoy your walk, sweetheart?”
Not wishing to touch the shackles any longer than necessary, Tedel left them lying on the floor, then headed for the room he shared with Kutan and Whym. “Miss me?” he asked as he opened the door. Whym looked up with obvious relief. Kutan grunted and turned to face the wall.
Colodor, Chapter 40
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Cast from your heart and drive from your mind any word but the word of Jah, for it is Truth.
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—Truth (Fundamentals 1:3)
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Colodor
One Moon Later
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Whym watched the rainwater drip from the gnarled branches of the juniper. The tree rose from the ground, its trunk bent and twisted away from the forge so only the western half of the courtyard benefited from its shade.
“Raven thinks it’s shying away from the heat.” Whym turned; he hadn’t heard Seph come up behind him. “But it was like that before this was a forge. It just wants to look down the mountain.”
Seph spoke of plants and animals differently from others. Whym had heard of hunters who claimed they could think like their prey, and of farmers who spoke of their fields as if they had souls. But when Seph spoke, it was like he was in constant communion with them, as if the plants and animals were an extension of himself. “It’ll fall if it looks much farther,” Whym joked.
The blacksmith didn’t acknowledge the humor as he joined Whym on the bench. “Trees are much like us in this, following their desires despite the consequences.”
“We know better,” Whym said. “A tree’s just a tree.”
Seph shot Whym a look of disappointment. “Trees can feel the strain of their roots. They just can’t help themselves. We have more in common than you think.” He pointed at the juniper’s trunk. “See, when it was young, before it knew anything of the outside world, it grew straight and tall. Only when tempted by the view and encouraged by the wind did it turn away.”
Is he trying to draw some parallel with our own situation? I don’t get it. Whym wasn’t in the mood for riddles. Kutan and Tedel’s constant bickering had worn down his patience, and as Stern’s apprentice, he’d endured enough riddled lessons to last a lifetime. He changed the topic versus asking for clarification. “Raven will give birth soon.”
Birthrights_Revisions to the Truth Page 24
