"You're rather calm for having just felt a piece of home," Pam said.
Daen laughed sardonically. "Calm is not the word I would choose. Subdued? Restrained? Those are good words."
Pam stepped in front of him as he approached the silverware drawer and wrapped her arms around him. "You know you're like a son to me, even if you are a lot older than me. I want you to be happy, even if that means you'll leave us one day."
Daen hugged her back. "I know. I care about you, too."
"Hey! Hands off the wife," Ander laughed as he came into the kitchen. "She's likely to burn dinner if you distract her too much." Ander winked at Pam and patted her behind.
"Behave yourself, Ander, or you'll be eating PB&J," she retorted.
"Are you two at it again?" Randell asked as he entered the kitchen.
Pam laughed. "Your father started it."
"Ha!" Ander scoffed.
Daen pulled the silverware from the drawer. "I'm staying out of this."
Laughter filled the kitchen and Daen was glad to be there.
~~~
Two men lay dazed and breathless, gazing up at the tall trees, wrestling with their decision to cooperate with the hooded man.
Gauvin tried to sit up, but the world around him hadn't stopped spinning. Desperate not to lose his stomach, he closed his eyes and breathed through his nose before calling out, "Bestian?"
A deep, gravelly voice reprimanded, "Keep your voice down."
"I don't understand. What happened?" Gauvin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples as his head pounded.
Bestian hissed, "If you don't shut up, I will shut you up!"
Gauvin scanned the area around him and whispered, "Where are we?"
Bestian clenched his fists, fighting the desire to knock some sense into the idiot he'd partnered with for this assignment. But he couldn't move for fear of being discovered. A few feet from where he lay were a group of men and women talking, about what he didn't know or understand.
Thunk! Thunk! The sound reverberated from tree to tree, grabbing Gauvin's attention and causing him to dive for cover behind a tree. "What was that?" He peeked around the edge of the tree just as two bright lights burst forward into his eyes.
Bestian lay still, on his back, as the beams of light floated over his body, followed by a roar that could be described only as that of an angry beast. He dared not move, and he hoped Gauvin would have enough sense to stay down as well. The light swept the trees to his right and then disappeared as the rumble of the beast faded.
Gauvin edged around the tree again, curiosity getting the better of him. He gasped at the sight of ... a ... magical ... covered wagon. "Did you see that?"
Bestian rolled onto his knees in time to see two bright red lights following the fading rumble into the night.
"Where are we?!" Gauvin stumbled to his feet to join Bestian and watched the wagon disappear at a speed he knew was impossible.
"I don't know."
"I do," said a voice from the space where the wagon had once sat. "Come on, I'll explain."
Relieved to understand the words the man spoke, Bestian and Gauvin approached, anxious to hear what he had to say.
16
Interruptions
Clang! Clang! Clang! Whoosh. Zip!
"We're about to return to town, and you fight as if you're still out of practice."
"Yeah, well, I'd like to see how out of practice you are. Oh, wait. I can't. I'm not the one who can throw energy balls at people."
Daen hadn't revealed his gift to the Youngs until a few years after arriving. He'd kept it to himself, not wanting to scare them. There had been some tension when the secret was revealed, but enough time had passed that he had been forgiven.
Randell stood with his back to the house, the light from the kitchen casting a long shadow in front of him; his mother was at the sink, washing dishes.
Daen formed another energy ball and bounced it in the palm of his hand. "Stop your whining." He laughed and launched the ball at Randell, forcing him to either deflect it with his sword or dive out of the way.
This time he didn't dive fast enough. "Ow! That stings!"
Daen tried not to laugh. "Move faster." He wasn't doing this to be mean. It was so Randell could learn. He could make the energy more lethal, but of course he wouldn't. Yet if the time ever came that he needed to, he suspected he could actually kill a person ... a test he'd never conducted.
Randell stood and brushed the dirt and grass from his hands and knees before picking up his sword. "Can we talk?"
Daen extinguished the ball he'd formed. "What about?"
"I want to go with you when you return to Luxatra."
Daen hadn't expected this. Conversations about him returning always had the element of sorrow, that Randell would miss him. "This is sudden."
"Not for me. I've been thinking about it for a while. And with this new activity you've been sensing, it's become all I can think about."
"I don't know if it would be a good idea," Daen said, contemplating the thought. He wanted more than anything to bring his friend to Luxatra. He had a right to be there. It was part of his history, his heritage. "If I have to fight to keep this mystery woman safe ... I don't want you in danger."
Randell sighed, "Then why did I learn to fight with swords and to dodge energy balls? Why am I speaking Aduraun if not in preparation to join you?"
Daen knew Randell had valid questions. He just didn't know if he had valid answers, except to say he didn't want to see Randell hurt. Even the best fighters die in battle. Daen tapped the tip of his sword on the ground, fidgeting before answering. "I'm not saying yes but I'm not saying no. Let's just see how things work out. Okay?"
Randell knew that was the best he would get from Daen. "Fine. Let's go in. It's getting late. And ... let's not tell mom and dad about me going to Luxatra unless we have to."
"Agreed."
~~~
Her hair blew over her shoulders and straight out from her face, creating a tunnel of blond hair. At the end of the tunnel she could see whitecaps on turbulent water as the light started to fade. She looked down from the cliff's edge, following the sound of waves crashing on the rocks below. She could feel the air become moist and electrified. A storm was brewing, and she was exposed.
The sound of rocks being stacked upon rocks drew her back from the edge, but when she turned to find the source of the sound, she saw no one except an elongated pile of rocks that had been left behind. Beyond the rocks was ocean as far as she could see. Facing into the wind, she could see the black clouds rolling across the rough waters, changing in shape as they moved. The closer they got, the stranger they looked.
The thunder started to rumble but it didn't stop. She knew this sound, but there was no place to hide, no place to run. She was trapped. The horses burst through the black clouds, pushing her off the cliff. She could feel the rush of cold air press against her back as she fell and she could hear the sound of the water crashing on the rocks. Before she reached the rocks, two hands grabbed her, saving her.
"Rhea! Wake up! Rhea! You're all right." Arms wrapped around her as she tried to understand where she was and what had happened.
"Where am I? What happened?" Rhea pulled back from the embrace and saw her mother.
"You were having another nightmare."
The light from the hall filled half her room. She rubbed her head and thought out loud, "I was falling from a cliff."
"That explains the thrashing and screaming."
Rhea looked down at her bed. The blankets were wrapped around her legs but everything else seemed intact. She reached for her journal and flipped on the light. "I need to write it down while I can still remember." She started writing, ignoring her mother's concerned look.
Christine slowly got up from the bed where she had apparently saved her daughter from falling to her death. "Don't stay up too late."
Rhea looked up from her journal. "I'm sorry, Mom. Thank you for waking me. It
felt so real. I'm not sure what would have happened if you hadn't come in."
Christine smiled. "I'm sure you would have woken on your own. Have you had this dream before?"
Rhea nodded. "At least I think so. I don't know. It feels familiar. Writing them down is helping, I think."
Christine started to pull her door closed, "Good night."
"Thanks, Mom. Good night."
~~~
Rhea woke to sunlight filtering through her eyelids. Thoughts of her conversation with Grennal and of her dream flashed through her mind as if she'd closed her eyes only moments ago. It was 8:10. The smell of coffee and toast seeped under her bedroom door, and her stomach responded with a growl.
As Rhea sat up, she glimpsed the edge of the basket on the floor, blocked mostly from her view by the bed. The basket from Luxatra. The basket used to carry her between worlds. How had Grennal done it? How does a dog-like creature carry a basket, let alone carry it between worlds? Between worlds. The last question she'd asked was if she could return to Luxatra, but then their meeting had been interrupted. Tonight, though ... she'd learn the answer tonight.
Rhea got ready for the day and headed for the kitchen. She could hear the tapping of fingers on keyboards coming from the offices down the hall. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she grabbed a snack bar from the pantry and followed the sounds.
Her parents' offices were across the hall from one another, their desks positioned such that they could easily see each other. Rhea had spent many hours sitting on the hall floor between the rooms, listening to and talking with her parents when they were too busy to leave their offices.
She set her coffee mug on the hall floor and sat down.
Christine spied her first. "Rhea, get off the floor. Come in and sit down."
Brian turned to see Rhea on the floor. "Good morning, sunshine. You look rested this morning."
Rhea waved. "Hi, Dad."
Christine stood up from her desk. "I'm going shopping. There are some sales I want to check out. Would you like to join me?" She looked down at Rhea, who hadn't gotten off the floor when she was asked.
At first Rhea hesitated, but then she decided to go. "Sure." It would be a good way to clear her mind and keep her occupied until that night, when she'd learn more. Rhea stood and looked at Brian. "Do you want to come too?" She knew the answer but felt she needed to ask.
"Thanks, but I'm meeting Henry for racquetball shortly. You two have fun."
17
School
Daen sat on the back porch, sipping his morning coffee and soaking up the energy around him. The bite of January's cold air was not going to keep him from enjoying the peacefulness of the backyard one more time before they returned to the confines of their apartment complex.
Ander stepped out onto the porch and into the cold January air. "I'll never get used to your ability to withstand the cold." Steam drifted off the surface of his coffee as he took a sip. "When are you two heading back?"
"Once Randell is ready, soon, I suspect. My stuff is already in the car."
"You know you're always welcome back if Randell becomes a pain to live with ...," Ander gave him a wink, knowing full well Randell would never do anything to make Daen uncomfortable "... or at least to visit, if you need time away from all the young students and parties."
"I know, so don't be surprised if I show up late one night."
They'd had this conversation each time Daen and Randell had visited. And each time, Daen had promised he might show up someday.
"I haven't noticed you experiencing any attacks lately. Or are they just coming at night?"
"They've slowed a bit. And when they happen, they aren't as intense as they were, early on."
The kitchen door opened and Randell slipped out onto the porch, letting the screen door slam behind him.
Daen continued, "I was just telling Ander that the attacks haven't been as frequent or intense in the last couple days. Although I'm thankful to get a good night's sleep, I'm starting to wonder if these episodes weren't a false sign."
Ander sat down next to Daen. "What else could it be? Stay positive. It'll happen."
Randell nodded in agreement. "You ready to head out?"
"Yeah, let's go." Daen knew they were right but he didn't want to get his hopes up. He didn't want to believe fully and then be slapped in the face with disappointment. But disappointment could come in another form as well; a question that had needled him for a long time. If he helped this woman, would he then be able to return to Luxatra? That had always been the assumption, but what if he was wrong? Would he stay here for the rest of his days?
"Ander. Thanks to you and Pam for having us for the month. It's been great." Daen extended his hand to Ander.
"Our pleasure."
Randell hugged his father. "Thanks, Dad."
More thanks and hugs were exchanged with Pam at the front door before they left.
~~~
Once! Rhea had seen Grennal only once while she'd been home, and now she was leaving for school. It wouldn't be until the first or second week of February that the moon would be bright enough to cast a shadow for her to visit. And that was assuming she would make the trek to see her in her dorm room.
Something must have scared Grennal two weeks before, for her not to return. Rhea had experienced this before. On most occasions, it meant that hunters were in the area and she couldn't risk being seen.
At first Rhea had worried excessively for Grennal's safety. Over the years, however, she'd learned to temper her emotions and had convinced herself that Grennal would always be fine. It was easy for a child to believe the worst and then turn it around and believe the best, even if neither was real.
But Rhea wasn't a child anymore, and she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something must have happened in the last couple weeks to keep Grennal away. She mumbled, "I'm imagining things. She's fine. She's fine."
Rhea had spent the last two weeks laying low, feigning the desire to relax, when in reality she couldn't hold a thought beyond the information she had gleaned during her one evening with Grennal. The day spent shopping with her mother had been fun, but her mother had caught her several times not hearing a word she was saying. How could she go back to school when this world wasn't hers? Would she go back to her world? Could she go back? Was there anyone to go back to, besides Grennal and the king?
The dreams came each night, some repeats of previous nights, some new. When they woke her she wrote as much as she could remember before falling asleep again. Sometimes they were violent, leaving her screaming or throwing items from her bed. Other times scenes of rustic towns flashed through her mind before switching to dark caverns with water dripping down the walls. Sometimes there was a blue light at the end of a tunnel. When she tried to walk towards it, the tunnel closed and it was gone.
The stress of facing another roommate lessened each night her dreams didn't end in fits of terror and her violently throwing items across the room. The more she wrote, the more control her subconscious seemed to have over the dreams. She was beginning to distance herself from the scenes that scared her, lessening her reactions.
Christine stepped into Rhea's room and noticed the suitcase packed and sitting on the floor. "You ready to go?"
Rhea closed her journal and slid it into her backpack. "Yeah. Let's go."
"You've been spending a lot of time in your journal. I remember when we had to practically force you to use it."
"I was too young back then to see the benefit. I'm older and things are different. It's helping, though. I'm sleeping better. And it's given me some great stuff for the creative writing course I'm taking this semester."
"You look better than when you first got home." Christine picked up her suitcase. "I don't recall you mentioning a writing course."
"It's an elective. I'm hoping it will be a nice distraction from my required courses in my last semester." Rhea followed her mom down the stairs.
Brian was already in the car, warming it up
for the trip. Rhea checked the time on her cell phone. She would be back in the dorm in two and half hours, two if the roads were clear of snow.
18
Skateboards
The semester was starting out great. Her first bit of good news came when she was told she wouldn't have a roommate this semester. That never happened, so Rhea wrote it off as her guardian angel looking out for her or maybe just really good luck. Her required classes were looking good as well. Mostly project-based, only a few midterms, and so far, only one course would have a final exam. She had only one more class to check out, creative writing.
She entered the second-story classroom in the English department's building. Just like many other classrooms on campus, this one had a shiny new white board on one wall faced by rows of student desks. The instructor's desk looked like an old wooden box and was set between the white board and the students. The windows were deep set, just deep enough to create a small window seat. She'd always wanted to sit on the deep window sill and people watch while listening to yet another lecture.
Rhea took a desk in the row next to the windows so that she could have something interesting to look at if the professor was boring. As she stared out the window, the lights went out. The effect was hardly discernible, but it was enough to make her look to the classroom entrance.
In walked a slightly graying man in a t-shirt and jeans carelessly tucked into motorcycle boots. He had long hair and a long beard. His canvas messenger bag had an image of a dark elf on the flap, possibly signifying his interest in fantasy writing. "I'm Professor Campbell. We will not have a text for this class and you can sit anywhere you like."
Rhea got up and tested his comment by sitting on the window sill. Nothing was said. Yep, this was going to be a good semester.
~~~
Randell walked from the English department building towards town. He was meeting a couple other professors for a meeting. The walkways were busy with students moving between classes but the weather was still too cold for students to hang out on the various stone walls that riddled the campus, performing such duties as holding in planting beds, bordering staircases, or acting as guards preventing students from falling when the terrain got steep.
The Guardian (The Gifted Book 1) Page 9
