The Restorer

by Sharon Hinck

  I adjusted my pack, shifting the weight to a more comfortable spot on my shoulders, and scanned the opposite shoreline for any sign of movement. With a little concentration, I could see small details from miles away, one of the few advantages of being the Restorer. A red-furred rizzid sunned on the rocks of the far bank, but I didn’t spot any human enemies. I made a point to study the tree line closely. Kahlarean assassins were notorious for being nearly invisible in their hooded masks and mottled gray clothes. They would be a far greater danger than an average Kahlarean soldier, even one armed with a syncbeam.

  I’d fought their assassins twice now and hadn’t come off well either time. I suppose simply surviving an encounter with them should be considered a success—though I’m not sure my last experience counted as surviving. They were swift and silent, and even a scratch from their venblades caused fatal paralysis. And—my stomach knotted like a three-peg weaving at the thought—the Kahlareans were obsessed with killing the Restorer.

  With a deep breath and another scan of the area, I continued upriver at a quicker pace.

  The foul smell in the air was my first warning that something very bad had happened. I edged my way toward the outpost, waiting to be challenged by one of the handful of guardians assigned this patrol. Although some were young, the guardians tended to be well trained and should have been watching their perimeter. A droning sound buzzed through the air as I drew closer. Using a large tree for cover, I peered into the clearing near the pass. Three men sprawled on the ground in front of the outpost’s hut. The low hum was caused by swarms of insects feasting on their dead bodies.

  I ran forward and crouched by one of the still forms. No need to look for signs of life. They’d been dead several days. All three showed the charred marks of syncbeam blasts. One boy hadn’t even had a chance to draw his sword.

  Kahlareans. How many had slipped through the pass after killing the guardians? Was this the first wave of a full-fledged invasion, or were they clearing the way for another small group of assassins to make their way toward Lyric, hunting the Restorer?

  Crunching footsteps startled me. I stood and swiveled my head, but too late. Three Kahlarean soldiers entered the clearing. I took a few slow steps back, thinking fast.

  “You’re late,” one of the men growled. Like most Kahlareans, his huge black eyes and sunken chin reminded me of a cave insect. His skin was the unnatural white of a corpse. These soldiers weren’t hooded or masked, and they’d stopped long enough to talk, so they weren’t assassins. So far, so good.

  I shrugged. “Look’s like there’s been some trouble.”

  The soldier laughed. “No trouble at all, thanks to your syncbeams. So where is the next delivery?”

  I rubbed my jaw. The Kahlareans had gotten their syncbeams from Hazor—from Hazorites with short black hair and angled features. I could work with that.

  “Well, there’s been a problem.” I stalled, scrambling for inspiration. I could pretend to be from Hazor, but I couldn’t produce a non-existent delivery of syncbeams.

  The soldier drew his sword and stepped closer. My hand tightened over my hilt, but I didn’t draw.

  “We don’t have time for games.” He kicked one of the bodies. “They could be sending reinforcements anytime.”

  Show no fear. Show no repulsion. I decided to try for irritation. “Don’t you get any news out here? Our armies took a beating at Morsal Plains. Hundreds of our own syncbeams were destroyed. We don’t have any to spare right now.”

  The soldier tilted his head and rolled his bulbous eyes in my direction. “Then what are you doing here?”

  “Just making a friendly visit to let you know we’re working on it. I can set up a new delivery time and take word back to Sidian in Hazor.”

  The Kahlarean shook his head. “Too risky. We’re across now. Who knows how many more guardians will be sent here in a few days’ time?”

  I shrugged. Not my problem.

  The Kahlarean stepped closer and grabbed the front of my tunic, his sword close enough to my belt to force me to suck in my stomach. It had just become my problem.

  I lifted my hands away from my sword. “Relax. We can work something out.”

  “I’ll tell you what we’ll work out,” said the soldier. “You’ll escort a group of us back to Corros Hills right now to collect the delivery.”

  I laughed but regretted it when he twisted the fistful of tunic under my neck, all but cutting off my air.

  “You can’t travel through the clans,” I said. “You’d be spotted the first time we tried to use a transport. And if we cut cross-country, it would take half a season.”

  “Not us,” he said. “Them.” He let go of me, and I stumbled back. Three figures had melted into the clearing. They wore gray hoods, and their faces were covered with cloth masks. Assassins.

  Caradung, I cursed silently.

  “Them?” I said. “Why would they want to go on a trade mission?” Even a weapons trader from Hazor would know that Kahlarean assassins were an elite group. They were the villains in the tales told around glowing heat trivets on cold nights—with good reason.

  The soldier grinned. “They have a few things to take care of on the way, but that doesn’t concern you. They’ll have no trouble blending in. You”—he jabbed a fat finger into my chest—“get them to Corros.”

  This would be a great time for some special Restorer vision to give me a plan. I wasted a few seconds waiting. Nothing. I shifted my gaze from the assassins back to the soldier.

  I could draw my sword. I might have a chance against the three soldiers, but how many heartbeats would it take for an assassin’s dagger to fly through the air and lodge in my chest? I’d recover, but that would be even worse. They’d know exactly what I was. I shrugged and willed my coiled muscles to relax.

  “All right. If they can keep up. I don’t have time to waste in the clan territories.”

  The tallest of the three assassins walked toward me on feet that didn’t make a sound. His large eyes looked into mine.

  I hoped that with all their other talents they couldn’t read minds.

  Finally, he nodded once.

  I started breathing again while sweat ran down my back. “When do you want to leave?”

  The two other assassins looked at each other. The tall one in front of me gestured with his arm toward the edge of the clearing. I caught a glimpse of metal strapped to his wrist when his sleeve moved. A venblade. One of a host of silent and hidden weapons I knew he carried.

  I needed to get word to Tristan about the outpost attack. I needed to get as far from these assassins as I could. I needed a drink—something stronger than orberry juice.

  Instead I turned and led the way into the woods, my skin crawling at the thought of the three silent figures following me.

  * * *

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  Reader’s Guide

  Few of us will have an experience like Susan Mitchell’s fantastical journey into a different reality. Yet many people find themselves pulled into worlds they didn’t expect: a diagnosis of cancer, a friend’s death, a parent’s Alzheimer’s, a child’s illness, divorce, addiction, or unemployment. Have you had to struggle through a “foreign world” that you wouldn’t have chosen to explore? What “portal” pulled you into the experience? Can you relate to Susan’s early emotions of shock, numbness, fear, and denial?

  Susan was challenged to fill a role for which she felt unequipped and inadequate. When do you struggle with feelings of inadequacy in your daily life? What roles feel overwhelming to you?

  Friendships helped Susan survive her first weeks in the new world. Who were some of your favorite characters in The Restorer and what did they offer Susan? In your real life, who are your allies and how do you support each other?

  The People of the Verses live among many dangers. The Rhusicans were a particularly troubling enemy. What made them difficul
t to fight? What parallels can you draw in your own current life-battles? If you had to identify a thread of mind-poison that has affected your thoughts, what would it be?

  Each major character in The Restorer has a unique relationship with the One, from intimate closeness, reverence, and profound trust, to confusion and frustration, to outright scoffing and refusal to believe in His existence or benevolence. Which character has a spiritual framework closest to your own? Why?

  In the Old Testament book of Judges, the twelve tribes of Israel are threatened on every side, and God raised up a series of leaders who delivered the people. The Restorer is loosely inspired by the story of Deborah, one of the Judges. What parallels did you notice between this novel and the Old Testament accounts? What differences?

  Do you think Susan’s experiences as the Restorer changed her? Why and in what ways? How do you think this might affect her attitudes and choices when she returns to her normal life?

  Do you ever see your life as an epic adventure? The Bible says we are pilgrims in a world where we no longer belong. Did anything in Susan’s story inspire you in facing your own daily battles?

  Glossary

  bitum tree: Tree with broad, shiny leaves far overhead and a smooth black trunk coated with runnels of glossy sap, which is used to make roads

  caradoc: Docile herd animal with soft hair that is used for creating fibers

  clans: The People of the Verses are comprised of twelve original clans; however, two have separated from the others and are now known as the lost clans. Excluding these two, the clans are Lyric, Braide Wood, Rendor, Shamgar, Corros Fields, Blue Knoll, Ferntwine, Terramin, Sandor, and Taborn.

  clavo: Spicy tea with a rich flavor and near-healing properties; favorite hot beverage of the clans; usually brewed in a wide wooden bowl over a heat trivet and ladled into mugs

  Council: Governing body of the People of the Verses, comprised of chosen representatives from each tribe; meets in Lyric and makes decisions that affect all the tribes

  Council Guard: Elite group of guardians with the specific role of serving and protecting councilmembers

  Grey Hills: Area where Shamgar clan once prospered, near the clay-fields and the border of Hazor; named for the rolling hills covered with grey-green moss; full day’s journey from Braide Wood

  guardian: Member of any clan who trains for military/protector role, which includes serving the Council and the people, training for and engaging in battle, and patrolling the borders

  Hazor: Nation across the mountain border of the People’s clans. Hazorites worship the hill-gods and sacrifice their children to those gods. Zarek is the current king and rules from the capitol, Sidian. He plans expansion and the destruction of nations in his way.

  healer: A person skilled in treating illness and injuries with electronic diagnostic devices as well as herbal remedies. Most villages have their own healers, but near Braide Wood there is a lodge where especially difficult cases from all the clans are handled.

  heat trivet: Flat panels or tiles that glow with heat or light. Various sizes are used to provide surfaces for cooking and illumination. They are a smaller version of the technology used to create the light walls common in homes.

  Kahlarea: Nation across the river that borders one side of the People’s lands. Kahlareans are pale, with bulbous eyes, and their assassins are feared everywhere for their stealth and ability to hide and appear from nowhere.

  lehkan: Animals used for riding. They look similar to elk, with fierce antlers and soft llama-like fur. They are ridden under saddle and guided by leg commands.

  Lyric: Central city of the tribes. The Lyric tower is the place where the One meets with the People in an especially tangible way. Lyric’s walls are white and form a scalloped pattern as they encircle the city.

  magchip: Renewable energy source for a variety of technologies

  messenger: Because the clans and the surrounding nations don’t have a written language, messengers memorize information to take from place to place. Messengers are often young, agile, and fast.

  orberry: A tart juice made from small orange berries that grow on low-lying shrubs along the edge of Morsal Plains. Sometimes fermented to create an intoxicating version of the drink, which is especially popular in Hazor.

  People of the Verses: The collection of tribes who worship the One. They pass down the Verses to their children through daily recitations.

  portal stones: Fist-sized, round, smooth objects with hidden technology. When three are aligned correctly and activated, they create a portal between the world of the People of the Verses and ours.

  Records: A sacred recording of the Verses in their original form, spoken by the One. Each clan has one, which the clan’s eldest songkeeper plays on end-of-season Feast days.

  Rendor: Markkel’s clan along the river

  Restorer: A leader sent by the One to save His people, traditionally a guardian. Once called by the One for this role, the Restorer develops heightened senses and strengths of various kinds, and heals rapidly from most injuries.

  Rhusican: A person from Rhus, a nearby nation; usually attractive, with reddish-gold hair and vibrant aqua or green eyes. Rhusicans have the ability to read and affect minds and to plant poison in people’s thoughts that can influence their behavior and even cause death.

  rizzid: Lizard-shaped creature, muddy red in color and covered with fur; climbs walls and has rows of sharp, venomous teeth

  season: The time it takes grain to go through one full cycle of planting, growth, and harvesting; there are six seasons each year.

  songkeeper: A person who leads worship, composes songs, encourages people, and promotes the faith life of the People

  syncbeam: Long-range, focused energy beam used as a weapon

  three-peg: A weaving technique where yarn is wrapped in patterns around a small three-pegged loom to create a variety of textiles, including sweaters and bed-covers

  transtech: A person skilled in designing and repairing the wide variety of technology used by the clans

  transport: automated vehicles of various sizes that follow programmed routes between and within cities; long, sleek, silver, with curved doors that slide up into the roof

  venblade: Small dagger used by Kahlarean assassins; reservoir in the handle injects poison into the blade to cause paralysis in the victim

  Verses: Holy account of the People’s history, laws, and promises about Restorers and the coming Deliverer, given directly by the One. The Records contain an audible version of the original directives from the One. However, the Verses are still a living tradition and the One guides each generation of songkeepers in adding the next section of history. These additional sections of the Verses are not in the Records, but are equally unchanging and sacred, and passed down by vigilant oral tradition.

  About the Author

  Sharon Hinck is a wife and mother who has had many adventures on her road with God, though none have involved an alternate universe (thus far). She earned an M.A. in Communication from Regent University in 1986 and spent ten years as the artistic director of a Christian performing arts group, CrossCurrent. At various times, she has been a church youth worker, a choreographer and ballet teacher, a home-school mom, a church organist, and a freelance writer. She is the author of eight novels, including The Secret Life of Becky Miller and Penny’s Project, as well as numerous non-fiction articles, devotions, and essays. She loves to hear from readers, so send a message through the portal into her writing attic on the “contact Sharon” page of her website:

  www.sharonhinck.com.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to family and friends for their ongoing support as I prepared this book.

  Special thanks to the prayer team for this project: Joyce, Amy, Patti, John, Cheryl, Chawna, Nina Ruth, Ginny, Rosemary, Cara, Jennifer, Kathy, Nancy, and Cheryl; and to the proofing team: Jan
elle, Kathy, Jamie, Casie, Rich, Amy, Chawna, and Ted. And extra appreciation to Amy Wallace and Chawna Schroeder for tireless critique help. Kudos to Joel Hinck for music, and thanks to Jeremiah Jording for map art. Thank you to agent Steve Laube and editor Jeff Gerke of Marcher Lord Press for persistent support of this project.

  My deepest gratitude goes to the One who called me on this journey and has been faithful to reveal Himself as my comforter, defender, and strong tower. Through His Son Jesus, He has truly restored my soul.