by J B Cantwell
Both Cait’s and Father’s heads whipped around in the direction of our travel, and it was even visible from here. A few hundred feet away, the symbol was carved right into the rock.
Soon all were on their feet, and we made our way silently to the pedestal. When we got to one of the outer ovals that made up the sign, we stopped. I looked first at Kiron, then at Father. Father’s face had lit up the closer we had come, and now a wide smile stretched across it.
“I remember this,” he said. “This one had just one piece of gold. But it was beautiful, only the second that I had ever seen.”
If he had been acting the least bit anxious, I might have paused here. For once, we were all about to descend into the chamber together in no easily discernible danger. No wild beasts or vicious storms threatened us. All there was in this place was silence and the expanse of rock that stretched to the heavens above our heads.
Maybe his intention was to steal the gold, I thought, remembering his hungry eyes back on Dursala. But that didn’t make sense. He had been the one to give me the gold he had found in the first place. In a way, it was already his. And he had made no move since the beginning of the journey to take it from me, or even shown a desire to see it at all.
I would have to trust him. Though who “him” was at any given moment seemed confusing enough. Was he my dad? Father? Jared? I would have to trust all three.
At least for now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Father insisted on coming into the cavern with me, but I wasn’t the only one whose trust had been rattled. Kiron and Finian were both unwilling to take their eyes off him after his pronouncement, especially during such an important moment as a leveling. Everyone had reason to want to descend into the cavern, and so we had to wait for Kiron to make our link to exit it once the leveling was done.
Father sat beside me, staring around at the mountains as though they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
He stared at the mountains, and I stared at him.
I wanted to talk to him, to ask questions, but I couldn’t form any, somehow. His story was unbelievable, or would have been if I hadn’t seen so much magic during my time in the Fold.
Kiron’s efforts with the link were soon completed, and we got to our feet and headed for the symbol.
“I never thought I’d be so anxious to leave my own planet,” Kiron said. “But all I can think of right now is getting back to the Hidden Mountains.” He looked up, his face wary. “I’ve never liked this place.”
I didn’t much care for it, either. I worried with every step that I might stumble onto one of those shards of rock sticking up all around us. Just one wrong step and we would be sliced open by the mountain.
“Oh, but there’s so much magic here,” Father said. “Can’t you feel it? It’s in the air, surrounding us. You can almost touch it.” He lifted one hand, caressing the air as though it were made of silk.
“Yeah, well,” Kiron said. “We’ve got other magic that needs attending to at the moment.”
We all piled onto the diamond at the center of the symbol, and immediately the mountains shook around us. I reflexively held my arms up, hoping that none of the deadly stones would fall on top of us while we were descending.
Before the platform had even come to rest on the cavern floor, Father had jumped off and headed right for the pedestal. For a moment I thought he might upend it, or somehow break it, or maybe use some magic within him we didn’t yet know of to destroy our ability to balance Aerit. But he didn’t. He placed his hands on either side of the basin, but didn’t touch it. His face glowed, both from the light coming from the basin, and from his own excitement.
“What do you remember?” Kiron asked, coming close now, watching him.
“Only snippets,” he said. “My consciousness only comes from the shadow of Jared that remains. I don’t carry all of his memories. It’s more like his … values, I guess I would call them. His desire to balance the Fold is strong within me.”
He looked back down at the basin, and slowly a cloud came over his face.
“The last time Jared was here, it had been to steal. This idea brings me shame, even though we work to reverse the effects now.”
But the corners of his mouth soon turned upward again.
“Still, you cannot deny its beauty,” he said, his face filled with amazement. “It is the heart of Aerit, brought up from the depths of the planet by Jared’s power. It is a wondrous thing.”
He asked to hold the gold piece, but I refused him. I dropped it quickly into the basin, and as the light filled the cavern, I dragged him away.
Minutes later, we were standing on Aeso. The Hidden Mountains loomed somewhere in the distance, waiting for us.
I suddenly felt that things were moving too fast. I felt exhausted from our time on Aerit, and now that we had balanced it and jumped to Aeso, I was grateful that we walked toward the mountains instead of using a link.
I wasn’t the only one. Both Finian and Kiron walked in silence, too, and the only sound was our footsteps in the grass and the skipping gait of Cait, who frolicked around Father’s path as we pushed on.
The Corentin was Jared. Jared was the Corentin.
My dad, his body had become a sort of venue for different people with different intentions, to show themselves. He had become a portal of communication. A guide. And a warning.
My heart ached at the thought. Not because I didn’t want the help, or that we didn’t need the help. But because even with those slivers of blue that shone more brightly in Father’s eyes with each planet leveled, my dad still did not speak to me directly. It seemed that, with the change in the balance of power in the Fold, he no longer wished to hurt me. That hint of blue, and the lack of further attack, had brought me hope that I might see him again as he was meant to be seen. A man. Just one man. My dad. Maybe insane. Maybe sane. It was starting to matter to me less and less as the relentless parade of personalities moved through his body and he still remained silent.
Were they Dad’s eyes that were watching me when I looked up to find them staring? Or were they Father’s, trying to read my actions, trying to determine how best to help?
Or Jared’s? Was Jared’s personality really only the good parts of the man who was responsible for all the evil these lands had ever known?
All I knew was that I was tired. Tired of trying to decide how I felt. Tired of being on my guard. Tired of being the one who had somehow become responsible for the success of this quest.
The storm was visible before the mountains were. Around the base of the great, gray peaks, the hurricane swirled, dangerous and relentless. I wondered if the Corentin knew that we were back here again. Soon, I stopped walking and took out the mile-link.
“This won’t be fun,” I said to the others as they clustered around me.
And again, as when Cait, Father and I had first arrived back on Aeso, we jumped into the violence of the storm.
Immediately my skin felt the sting of the wind. My cheeks was still sore from the storm on Dursala, but there was no escape from this new onslaught. Tiny particles of dirt and sand began stripping my skin, and I shut my eyes and bowed my head into the gale.
“We have to stay together!” I yelled. “Don’t let go!”
Cait’s protesting cries of pain. Finian’s shout of surprise. Kiron’s growl, telling us to keep moving. Even Father, who had moments before seemed excited about the prospect of another adventure, groaned at the pain the wind brought.
It seemed to take an eternity, though it was only a few minutes until we were on the other side of it. Once the wind lifted, and we were within the quiet heart of the storm, we all released our hands and collapsed on the ground, exhausted. Caked sand filled half my mouth. Finian delicately tried to remove the particles from his eyes. Kiron spat onto the ground, shaking his head in an attempt to be rid of the stuff. Cait’s beautiful cheeks were raw, bright red.
Yet she was the first to her feet, excitement lighting her fac
e.
“We can’t stop now,” she encouraged, grabbing my shirt and tugging, as if her desire alone could lift my weight from the ground.
I groaned, wiping my own eyes with the cleanest part of my shirt I could find.
She was right, though, and I stood up. On our first attempt to reach the Stonemorians in the Hidden Mountains, it had only taken us a short time to find them. There was no reason to delay now.
“Come on,” I said. “She’s right. The sooner we find the group, the better.”
As Kiron and Finian crawled to their feet, only Father remained on the ground, his expression something I hadn’t seen there before: fear.
“It’s the same as the last time we jumped through the storm,” I said. “What’s the problem?” I tried to ignore the stinging skin on my face and hands.
He pushed himself up to his elbows.
“I understand now,” he said, his voice barely audible above the storm that raged just beyond where we stood. “I understand why we’re fighting. That there is another part to Jared. I didn’t realize it until now. His thoughts have always been so gentle, so guiding. But now I see.”
“Now you are reminded what the Corentin is capable of,” Kiron growled from behind me. And it was he who extended his hand to Father. “Let’s hope that what you say is true. That the Jared who remains within you is, in fact, the good that remains of the Corentin.” He hoisted Father to his feet and then stared around at the mountains above. “And none of the bad.”
Within just a handful of jumps we had found the spot where Cait’s trail had last run cold. And within minutes I recognized the hunched form of Zacharias emerging from the shadows, a wand raised in our direction.
“It’s us, Zacharias,” Kiron said.
But he would not let us pass so easily.
“Tell me the place where you and I first met,” he said, unwavering.
Kiron snorted.
“We met in the field behind my father’s house,” he said. “You had come to us at his request to teach us the lore of Aerit.”
“What were you doing in that field?” he pressed.
“If I recall correctly, I was planting tubers,” he said. “The cold of winter had not yet passed, and I shoved each chunk of potato deep into the ground with my numb fingers. Is that enough for you, old friend?”
“And when I came into the house of your father, what did you learn?”
Kiron laughed.
“I learned that you enjoy a pipe after dinner, and did not worry whether or not your wet socked feet stuck out before our fire would offend.”
Zacharias smiled.
“And…” he said, approaching now and lowering his wand.
“And the story of how the Corentin had come to be,” Kiron said. “Though now that story might have to change some.” He shot a knowing glance toward Father, and reached forward to shake Zacharias’ hand.
The people of Stonemore crowded around us as we entered the overhang where they rested. Erod’s head, taller than any of the others, watched cautiously from twenty feet back, and I saw, just barely, the top of Jade’s white-blond hair through the crowd.
My breath caught in my chest as I recognized her, the only true family I had in this place so far from Earth. Father seemed not to count; his awareness was so transient, occasionally violent, and undependable. Now that I knew Jade’s possession was controlled by Erod, seeing her brought me nearly as much relief as returning home to my mom might’ve done. None of the ill will I had held for her just weeks ago remained.
I dropped my bag and walked out of the crowd to her. I could see, even from far back, that she had tears in her eyes. At the same moment we both opened our arms to each other, both relieved that the other was still alive.
“It’s ok,” I said. “We’re back. We actually balanced most of the planets.” My disbelief was clear in my voice. I could hardly understand all we had been through, myself. I pulled away from her. “Are you ok?” I asked.
She nodded, wiping her face with the back of her hand. I could tell she was trying hard to remain stoic and brave. I didn’t press her.
“What happened to your face?” she asked.
“The storms,” I said, wincing as she touched one cheek with a single finger.
“We need to get you cleaned up,” she said. “Are the others this way?”
“Yeah,” I said, though the past hours had been such a blur that I couldn’t tell her whose injuries were the worst.
“There were no impostors while you were gone,” she said, though she glanced around nervously as though she might’ve missed one.
“You look thin,” I said.
She nodded.
“Yes, there hasn’t been much food around,” she said. “Only Kiron’s tea to keep us feeling full. But that feeling always passes as soon as our stomachs realize it’s not real food.” She placed one hand over her hollow belly as she spoke. I had gone hungry, too, but only part of the time. I felt guilty, almost ashamed, at the fruits from Dursala that still lined the insides of our packs.
I turned to Erod.
“Are Elidor and Tristan back?” I asked.
“Tristan, yes,” he said.
“What about Elidor?” I pressed.
“Elidor …” Erod didn’t finish his thought, leaving the words hanging in midair as I realized the truth.
Elidor was dead.
“What happened to him?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat.
“Tristan will tell the story,” he said. “Something about a beast.” His eyes looked somber. “But they leveled their share of the planets. Elidor even managed to find the pedestal on Aeso. It wasn’t even far from here, just back in Stonemore. He fooled the guards somehow, I don’t know how. The old man’s magic was always impressive to behold. He left Tristan in the forest and entered Stonemore alone and undetected. It wasn’t until he was out of the cavern, Aeso leveled, that trouble caught up with him. A man. If you could call him a man, I guess. He was a monster from what Tristan said. A sick servant of the Corentin, always followed by a flock of young child slaves.”
I stopped breathing altogether. This description matched only one being I had ever met.
The Coyle.
Suddenly, my thoughts jumped not to Elidor’s plight, but to Rhainn’s.
“Did Rhainn come?” I asked.
“No,” he said, a little confused. “It’s been dry since—”
“No, I mean the boy,” I said. “His name is Rhainn.”
“Oh, the boy,” he said. “Yes, a boy did come, and he stays with the townsfolk. He’s mute. We haven’t been able to get a word from him.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
Erod turned and pointed, and alone in the deepest part of the overhang, a young boy sat huddled.
Rhainn.
I ran for him, desperate to see the boy I had unintentionally left behind. But as I got closer, his eyes grew wide with fear, and he began to scramble backward.
“Rhainn?” I called. “It’s me. Aster.” I slowed my pace until I stood ten feet from him. He looked like he would bolt at any moment. “Don’t you remember me?” I asked.
He stared, uncomprehending. Then he gave me the slightest of head shakes.
He’s damaged. It’s sort of like when Cait—
Cait!
I turned and yelled, running now in the opposite direction.
“Cait!” I called. “Where is Cait?”
Her little head bobbed out from behind Father, and she looked alarmed at my rapid approach. But I smiled, and her alarm turned to confusion instead. When I reached her I swept her up into my arms and turned toward Rhainn again.
For a moment he seemed just as frightened as the first time I had approached. But then something in his face sort of cracked, and I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
Cait scrambled out of my arms.
“Rhainn-y!” she called.
She hit the ground and ran for him. He seemed confused by her, too confused to run away
, and soon she was leaping for him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He did not return her embrace. He simply sat there, the little girl he had tried so hard to save gripping onto him.
Larissa emerged from the crowd and ran to us as fast as her centuries-old legs would carry her.
“Child!” she sang at the sight of Cait, and she gripped her tightly in a hug.
“Dear one,” she said, turning to Rhainn. “This is Cait. The girl I spoke to you about.”
Rhainn looked into her eyes, as helpless and hopeful as a very young child. Then he looked back to Cait sheepishly.
“Rhainn-y?” Cait whispered.
“He doesn’t remember you, child,” Larissa said. “Nor anyone else.”
Larissa’s face was slack, like a person who’d been through too much pain in too short a time.
“How did he get here?” I asked. “How did he find you?”
“He was released,” she said. “That monster down in the village tossed him out. Tristan found him wandering aimlessly in the woods behind Stonemore and brought him here. At first we were worried that he might be an impostor, like all the other Asters had been. But his lack of speech and state of general misery made us think otherwise. We think he was sent here on purpose.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. It wasn’t like the Coyle to release anyone, much less the boy he had snatched right out from under me.
“We think he was like … a gift,” she said. “A warning of sorts.”
I turned back to Rhainn, my stomach turning over. He had been the prisoner of the Coyle this whole time, then. Despite my guilt, I couldn’t imagine how I might’ve rescued him amidst everything we had been through. And now he sat before me, eyes frightened and body shaking like a leaf. Who knew how he had been tortured during the long months since I had last seen him? We would be lucky if any of his former self survived. I had been too late to get him away from the monster that was the Coyle. I turned to Cait who, surprisingly, did not wear the look of blame that I had expected to receive from her.
