Shadows of Home

by James R. Vernon

  A wave of scorn flowed through Ean's bond with Azalea. "And I'm sure the villagers will be ever so helpful with that, seeing how you're just universally loved here."

  Ean's frustration over everything that had happened since his return and the most recent event finally bubbled over. "Azalea, I'm tired of your attitude. If you're just going to sit there and make spiteful comments, then you need to go."

  "I'm just--"

  "Pointing out the obvious," Jaan cut her off with a wave of a massive hand. "When, as an advisor, you should be providing suggestions and solutions. If you are not in the proper frame of mind to suppress your childish ways and do your duty, then you should go."

  Azalea's mouth hung open as her gaze moved from the Crux to Ean. He met her gaze and refused to look away. It was obvious she was looking for support, both from the expression on her face and the questioning feeling that trickled through their bond. When he didn't speak, the feelings of hurt rolled through their bond like a thousand stabs to his gut.

  "Fine." Azalea got back to her feet. "If I'm not wanted here, I'll go."

  The Yulari pushed past Jaan, which was no small feat considering the Crux's size, before leaving the room. Ean watched her go, fighting off his guilt with his own frustration over everything going on. Thankfully, the latter was the stronger emotion. Once he was sure she was far enough away that the chances of her storming back in were slim, he turned his attention back on the Crux.

  "So, what do you suggest we do?"

  "We should not discuss options without your advisors here."

  "A good point. I wanted to summon Zin back anyway. After he tells us what he learned in the Abyss and we catch him up, then the three of us can discuss--"

  "Four. All your advisors should be present for serious matters such as these."

  "What? You said she should go!"

  "That does not mean I do not value her opinion. Sometimes she sees things I do not, and the Yulari certainly understands this world better than I do. A good tribe leader listens to all opinions, even those he or she might not agree with. I suggested Azalea leave so she could get in a better frame of mind."

  "Except now she's just angry and hurt. Azalea is in a worse frame of mind now than she was before."

  "And a good leader will be able to calm her down so she can contribute. You know Azalea better than I do; perhaps you know her entire species better than I do as well. I am confident you will be able to appease her enough that she returns ready to help us."

  "I think you're over-estimating my abilities."

  "Yes, I seem to do that quite often." Ean looked for a smile on the Crux's face, but as usual, he didn't even give the slightest hint that his words were in jest, which probably meant they weren't. "But none of that matters at the moment," the Crux continued. "If you are going to bring your imp back early, you might as well do so now. Along with whatever information he can provide, he might have some suggestions on how to quench your Yulari's ire."

  Not feeling the need to reply, Ean instead focused his power on the twisting runes on his body that formed his connection to Zin. The spot grew warm on his body, a comforting sensation he hoped meant his friend was ok. In his mind, he pictured the summoning rune that had brought the imp into his life, and then he watched as it flared into existence on the floor in front of him. The runes turned a brilliant violet that lit the room, its glow only accenting the cold, dark stone of the silent Auz. Hopefully, Zin was returning with a solution to fix whatever had happened to the sentient sphere.

  The summoning runes disappeared into the rock, a hole the size of a wagon wheel taking its place. A violet fog obscured any view past the first few inches. The moment seemed to stretch as Ean stared into the void. Every instant Zin's long, pointy ears didn't point out of the fog felt like a hand squeezing Ean's chest tighter and tighter. Then, all at once, Zin's form shot up from the mist as if tossed, his small brown body tumbling up into the air almost as high as the ceiling above them before he came crashing down in a heap. Ean closed the circle with a thought, not even watching it close as he moved to his friend's side.

  "Zin! Are you ok?" Ean looked over his friend as the imp pushed himself up into a sitting position.

  "A little bruised, but more than anything, I'm happy to be home."

  "I don't know what happened." Ean shook his head. "My magic can be a bit unpredictable sometimes, but I've never had anything like that happen before."

  "Wasn't the magic," Zin replied, rubbing at his elbows. "A Togorath was trying to catch me right as you summoned me back. It had its slimy fingers on me, but thankfully, your magic was strong enough to yank me free." He let out a laugh. "The expression on its toad-like face as I was pulled from its grasp was priceless."

  Jaan let out a bark of a laugh. "Usually, when the Crux toss around an imp for fun, the imp is less than amused."

  Zin spread both arms out in a shrug. "Most imps don't have my dark sense of humor. Or any humor, for that matter. Doesn't mean you and your friends can start tossing me around, though."

  The Crux's thick eyebrows rose in surprise. "You hold too great a position of honor for any of my people to treat you in such a way. We have even refrained from tossing around the normal imps in an effort not to offend you."

  Zin stood and began stretching his legs. "I appreciate that, Jaan, but it’s not like any of them are my relatives. Toss away to your heart's content."

  The small smile that touched the Crux's lips did not bode well for the other imps living in the mines.

  "So," Zin glanced about, "you've brought me back a little earlier than expected, but it doesn't seem like anything's changed. Did you miss me that much?"

  "I was getting anxious," Ean replied. He ran a hand through his hair. "And it hasn't been the best couple of days since you've been gone."

  A clicking sound filled the room as Zin rattled the claws on his fingers against Auz's surface. "Not sure how things could have gotten worse, but it’s flattering to hear they did because of my absence."

  "It wasn't anything you could have changed--"

  Jaan cut him off. "The Zekarian showed the Crux some disrespect after his return, so we made sure he understood his error."

  "And he still has all his limbs?" Zin chuckled. "Are you going soft on me, Jaan?"

  "The Zekarian does not fully understand our ways, so leniency was shown. Plus, he did put up a good fight. Dismemberment was not needed," Jaan tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he turned his attention on Ean, "this time."

  "So, that's it?" Zin asked. "Just a little pummeling by the Crux? That doesn't sound too horrible."

  "Because you weren't the one being pummeled," Ean replied. "But no, there is a considerable amount more."

  "Well," Zin said as he took a seat on the rock floor, "before I tell you how my little trip to the Abyss went, you might as well fill me in on how you let things go to dung in the few days I've been gone."

  Ean favored his friend with a twisted smile as he sat down a few feet away and filled him in on the past few days.

  Chapter 22

  Stay calm.

  Ezzy had repeated the mantra to herself over and over again as she followed the mob back into the village. She clenched her fists, letting her nails dig into her palms, and half-listened to the chatter of the people of Rottwealth.

  Anything to distract her from thinking about the man she had been hunting.

  Stay calm. Don't do anything foolish.

  She made the voice in her head sound like Shay and pictured the towering woman looking at her with those dark grey eyes that looked like the clouds just before a storm broke. She imagined how worse things would be with Shay when she finally got here if Ezzy caused even more of a stir. Sneaking away from her mentor was going to have consequences. It was more than likely that Shay was going to tan her hide and perhaps add a scar or two. If she brought Paz to bare and caused damage in another village...Ezzy shuddered at the possibilities.

  Stay calm.

  It was difficult w
ith the mayor's bulbous head bouncing around in the center of the crowd. The man had used her, no denying that. He had listened to her story, pretended to supply a sympathetic ear, and then promised to aid her in capturing Ean if she followed along and revealed herself at the right moment. All behind the closed doors of his office. That should have been the first sign the man had his own motives. Ezzy had been blinded by the first person outside her close circle who had seemed ready to offer her aid in finding justice for her family. And all she had ended up being was a pawn to this man's petty grudge.

  Are his motives so different from your own?

  Ezzy almost tripped at the thought. It had come in Shay's voice, but unless she was going mad, it had been her own question. After all this time of unrelenting thoughts of finding justice, was her resolve starting to crack? But why? She had confronted the man twice now, and both times he had been adamant on placing the blame for her father's death elsewhere. Cowardice, Ezzy had thought at first, but what if there was some truth to the man's words. All she had to go by were the words of one of the only people she knew of to survive the massacre—a simple worker who could barely rub a few thoughts free from his mind. He had given Ezzy someone to blame, so she had overlooked his lack of intelligence. Had that been a mistake? Had the past year or so been a mistake?

  "That was brave of you."

  A stranger's voice brought her out of her thoughts. A young man in his early twenties walked beside her, favoring her with a smile that was all warmth. To say he was handsome would be an understatement, from his chiseled chin covered in stubble, his strong cheekbones, and his well-balanced nose that sat between two deep ocean blue eyes. A mop of shaggy brown hair covered most of his head and hung almost down to his eyes in the front.

  There was a sadness in his eyes that Ezzy was all too familiar with.

  It took Ezzy another moment to realize she was oogling the muscular young man in front of her and she coughed uncomfortably before finally speaking.

  "There was nothing brave about shouting at a man from far away."

  He let out a friendly laugh, but there was a small tinge to it that matched the look in his eyes. "I don't know about that. I've yelled at that man a few times with one of those massive yellow monsters standing at his side. I've kept a strong front doing it as well, but I've seen one of those creatures in action before. If Ean gave the word for it to attack, there wouldn't be much we could do to stand against it. The whole village might not even be able to stop one of them, and he orders around six as if they couldn't snatch him up and rip him apart at any moment."

  "I have something that could stop them," Ezzy mumbled, then tilted her head as she regarded the man. "Sorry, you look familiar, but I have no idea who you are."

  "Sorry," the young man stuck out a hand. "My name is Bran Erikson. I'm the son of the mayor."

  "Oh." Ezzy increased her pace.

  Bran caught up with her after a few steps and matched her pace. "I take it you aren't a fan of my father either."

  "No, I'm not fond of being used." She glanced over at him for a moment without breaking her stride. "You said either?"

  "My father has a very set view on this village's future, and it involves him at the steering wheel. He used to share the power with our older Healer, Cleff, but since the old man's death, my father has considered himself more of a minor king than a mayor. Its begun to rub a few people the wrong way."

  "Would you be one of those people?"

  "Perhaps," Bran said with another laugh. "We disagree on a great deal. Unfortunately, my father rarely listens to me. It doesn't help that my younger brother and mother follow my father blindly. I'm outnumbered when it comes to discussing what should be done around here about a great many things."

  "And when it comes to Ean Sangrave?"

  Bran was quite for a time and when he answered, all joviality had left his voice. "I'm conflicted." He glanced at her and a frown touched the corner of his lips. "By your expression, I'll take it that wasn't the answer you were looking for."

  No, it wasn't, but not for the reasons you might think.

  It would have been easier if Bran had denounced Ean right then and there. Declared all the foul deeds the man had committed: little animals he had tortured growing up, the children he had bullied, the food and livestock he had poisoned. But if any of that had happened, surely Bran wouldn't be conflicted. The man's doubts only seemed to mirror her own growing ones.

  Bran seemed to take her silence as an accusation he needed to defend against.

  "Ean didn't have the easiest life growing up here. His parents were killed, but not before they brought about a lot of trouble for the village. With them dead, most of the older villagers placed all their blame on him. Most people treated Ean like a pariah. I suppose he considered me a friend, but if I was being honest, I was only kind to him because..." his lips pursed together for a moment "...well, for selfish reasons. Eventually, we had a falling out as well and some things were said by both sides that I'm not proud of. He has every reason to hold a grudge against practically our entire village."

  "Yet, he seems to have come back and made a home for himself here, even if it is underground. If I had grown up in such a hostile place, I can't imagine I'd ever want to come back once I had left. Why did he?"

  "We don't know. I killed this beast that had taken up the mines only for it to become haunted. Or at least, that's what he wanted us to think. Then, one day, my father gets a message that someone had actually claimed the mine and wanted to make a deal. I was sent in my father's place, and needless to say, I was surprised to find my former friend was the one in charge with even more monsters under his control then when I had last seen him. The shock of finding him alive and in control of the mine I had fought to free only brought out all the negative feelings I harbored towards him. The meeting did not go well." Bran didn't bother to hide his shamed expression.

  "Well, the way your father acts, Ean has to be doing something that effects the village poorly." Ezzy's voice was strained as she hoped to hear anything now that condemned her nemesis.

  "Actually, the opposite. Despite the fact that his claim on the mine is questionable at best, the aid his creatures provide has more than made up for things. The miners we send don't have to waste time searching for metal nodes as Ean's creatures have them found almost as fast as we can mine them out. He provides tools when ours break and pays a tax to the village on the minerals his creatures mine for him. He's also put some kind of water elemental into the marsh, claiming that it will eventually clean it up and make it pure water again. I was skeptical at first, but after a season of letting the thing work, I have noticed the water becoming clearer."

  A small chuckle escaped his lips. "And the smell has gotten the slightest bit better."

  Ezzy looked away, not wanting Bran to see her face twist in confusion. "So, you have nothing bad to say about him then..."

  "I didn't say that." Ezzy barely contained her surprise when the young man placed a hand on her shoulder and brought her to a halt. "He's brash and his temper has grown even shorter than it had been growing up. Sometimes I see two sides to him: first the brooding, reserved Ean I grew up with and then, when he's backed into a corner, his ego seems to take control and he comes off arrogant and demanding. I'm not sure which is the real him and which is the mask he puts up. Or if both are masks and his real personality lies somewhere in-between. That's why I'm conflicted. I try to ignore my own problems with him for the good of the village, but because I don't know what kind of a person he really is, I can't fully trust him. But I can't completely write him off either."

  Bran let out a weak laugh. "I don’t know if any of that even makes sense."

  "It does." Ezzy let out a long sigh and rubbed at her eyes. "I dislike admitting it, but I'm starting to question if my hatred of the man might be misplaced. I've been hunting him for over a year based on one man's shaky claims. From what I've seen firsthand, all Ean is guilty of is having a bit of an ego." She grimaced as if sayin
g the words were an insult to her father. "That doesn't mean I don't want to beat the truth out of him one way or another."

  "I understand that feeling." Bran laughed, some of the warmth returning to his voice. "Come on." He waved her ahead. "Let's go back to my father's inn and have a couple mugs of something to warm our stomachs and some freshly baked bread to fight off this chill weather. If you want to talk about anything other than Ean Sangrave, the food and drinks will be on the house."

  "You have yourself a deal, Bran Erikson." She gave him the first genuine smile she had worn in a while. "And you can call me Ezzy."

  Chapter 23

  The Golden Coin was filled with people when Ezzy and Bran stepped through the double doors leading into the common room. Warm air rushed over her, the heat from the fire in the hearth strong enough to keep the cold weather outside at bay. The people of Rottwealth filled the tables spread about the room, the sound of wooden mugs clattering were heard throughout. Most had plates in front of them, the fresh food still steaming and adding their warmth to the room. The patrons seemed in high spirits as laughter filled the room. Even those who had been in the mob and arrived a few moments ahead of Ezzy and Bran seemed to have found tables amongst friends and family. Funny how a few words from the mayor and a tankard of ale could make people forget they had been on the verge of violence.

  Bran received a hearty welcome. Most of the crowd called out his name, the clattering of mugs on the table tops increasing, and quite a few waved him over to join them. A few proclaimed him the monster slayer, which grew as more joined in until the entire room was singing his praises. To his credit, the mayor's son seemed caught somewhere between feeling humbled and embarrassed at the accolades. He waved his hands for the crowd to calm, which they did almost immediately.

  "Thank you," Bran began once the noise in the room had dropped down to a barely noticeable buzz. "As always, I appreciate your kind words and constant support of my family. Although I might have been the one to bring down the beast that had plagued our mine, it’s the hard work of everyone in this village that makes Rottwealth the best place to live in the land."