by Walsh, Sara
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, my patience with the whole cloak-and-dagger routine wearing thin. “You were talking about something to do with me, some place we have to go.”
The red mist snaked about Sol’s feet, adding to his air of mystery.
“There’s a place we can stay in the valley,” he said. In the forest’s gloomy light, the golden streaks had faded from his hair. Now it appeared dark against the gray of his shirt. “We can get there before nightfall. That puts us close to Orion for the morning.”
Unconvinced by his tale, I shook my head. “So what about ‘We don’t tell her anything. We just sleep there and then leave in the morning.’ Or are you just going to keep your secrets?”
He studied me, hard. “Does it really matter to you?” he finally asked. “Even though it won’t change a thing?”
“Sol, it matters,” I replied. “I may not know much about Brakaland, but I’m not an idiot. I know something more’s going on. It has to do with my parents, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t reply.
“Come on, Sol,” I urged. “I need to know.”
“All right,” he said, struggling to hold my gaze. He straightened. “It’s about your father.”
I’d been expecting that, or something like it, but still those words hit like a blow to the side of the head. “You know who he is,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“He’s not the Suzerain, is he?” I asked, and laughed. The sound was as hollow as my joke.
“No.” Sol was serious.
“At least that’s a relief.” I wandered to a large rock and sat, trying to remain calm. Calm and reasonable had got me information from Sol in the past. He really wasn’t a guy for histrionics. “I already guessed that my parents knew this place.” I said. “How else could I have come by the necklace? I’m guessing they were Runners.”
Sol sat on the ground in front of me, his posture open. As soon as his expression softened, I wondered if maybe we were actually more similar than I’d thought. I didn’t know Sol’s story, but both of us had built walls around ourselves. I could feel mine crumbling.
“Mia, you have a great life in Crownsville,” he said, his voice soft and deep, his eyes taking in every inch of my face. “You don’t have to worry about any of this. You have your friends, school, a future where you can be anything you want.”
I saw sincerity in those gorgeous eyes. He was trying to protect me? That was the reason for his silence? But as much as I was learning about Sol, there was just as much he still didn’t know about me.
“I just want to be whole,” I said. “I want the truth.”
“All right.” He took a deep breath. “Mia, your father is from Brakaland. And so are you. You were born here. At the place where we hope to camp tonight.”
FIFTEEN
I’d said that I wanted the truth, but sitting with Sol in that clearing, I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it. Before, Dad was anything I wanted him to be. Imagining him as a total loser usually made me feel better about being abandoned. Now he was close, if only in thought, and he came from a world that a day ago I hadn’t even known existed.
“No wonder Delane freaked out,” I said.
“He wasn’t happy going behind your back like that,” said Sol.
“But you were?”
“If it keeps you safe, then yes.”
A week ago I would have laughed in Sol’s face if he’d told me this. But too many things had happened for me not to believe his words.
“So I’m a Brakalander like you,” I said, simply. “Where do I get my passport?”
“You already used it,” said Sol.
“And Pops? Is he alive?”
Sol nodded.
“Over here?”
Again.
“Not a Runner?”
“No.”
So I’d guessed that part wrong. How much more was there for me to learn?
“Then who is he?” I asked.
“His name is Bromasta Rheinhold,” said Sol. “And he’s a great man.”
I laughed—snorted, really. “Yeah,” I said. “Great at dumping his kids.” My voice had turned shaky and that wasn’t a good sign. It usually signaled a meltdown. “Wow. So my name isn’t Mia Stone and I’m actually an illegal alien. It’s a lot to take in.”
Sol shook his head. “Those things don’t define who you are, Mia.”
“You sure about that?” I asked, unconvinced.
I couldn’t help but think of all the times I’d looked at other families, like the Burketts or the Bakers, and wished for what they had. Even though I’d known it was stupid. Even though I’d sworn to myself that life was what you made it, that everyone had problems, and that everyone wanted at least one thing they couldn’t have. That was what I’d had to believe, because of my dad. As much as I’d wanted my family to be like the Burketts, wallowing in misery about the fact that it wasn’t, wouldn’t change the future or the past.
And Jay? Jay just got on with things. He was tougher than me, always had been. I was just better at putting on a front. I’d had seven more years’ practice. Now my dad was real, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.
Wherever I’d come from and whatever that meant, there was one thing I did understand: None of this was Sol’s fault. Shooting the messenger wouldn’t change the message.
“So you really know who he is?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Then you must have known who I was too. This whole time.” It was a logical argument.
“I knew before I even went to Crownsville,” said Sol, holding my gaze, “but I didn’t know it was you. I knew you were at the school. When you stopped me and asked about the dream bird, that’s when I put it together.”
“And Jay?”
“I knew you had a brother.”
Calm and reason faded. I felt hot and, I admit, a little overwhelmed. All this time and Sol had known answers to questions I’d been asking all my life.
“So where is he?” I asked. “This great Bromasta Rheinhold.”
“He’s fighting in the West,” said Sol. “Your father’s a legend, Mia, a close friend of the king. He—”
I stopped him with a raised hand. “King? You have a king? My father knows a king?”
Sol brushed dust from his leg, again uncomfortable. “There are many kings in this world,” he said. “But it’s not what you think. The king is an elected official. Our king, my king, holds the West, but it’s a constant battle against the Suzerain.”
“So where does my father fit in all of this?”
“Your father was a warrior in the great war against Elias,” Sol replied. “This was before Elias became the Suzerain. When he was defeated, a law was passed that banned magic in Brakaland. It was called the Purge. It was argued that without magic, what had happened in the war couldn’t happen again. It was the biggest mistake we ever made. Many magicians fled to your world, fearful of persecution or arrest, and took with them the tools they used in their skills. Others sought refuge with Elias and joined him in hiding. So when Elias resurfaced, he had all the power and we could no longer beat him.
“From the start, your father didn’t agree with the Purge. He left the West in protest, traveled here, and became a Freeman of Welkin’s Valley.”
So my father was known throughout Brakaland, yet not known by his own children? I wondered what he’d done to earn such legendary status, what was so special about his life here that Jay and I had simply been unable to compete for his attention. Part of me wanted to know more, another part wanted him to remain the shadow that had dumped me in Des Moines. A ghost.
“So this is Welkin’s Valley?” I asked, determined, however I felt, to prove to Sol that I could handle this latest revelation.
“It’s where we’re sitting and where we’ll camp tonight,” Sol replied. “Welkin’s Valley has always been the seat of the Freemen. They’re self-governed, swear no allegiance, and don’t join fights in the wider world. When Elias returned, this
was one of the first places to fall. This had always been a battleground, because it rests between Orion and the Ridge. Your father fought here in a battle against Elias that brought death to more than half the Freemen. When it was over, those who survived headed west to join the fight on the king’s frontier.”
“And my father’s still there?”
“He’s still there,” confirmed Sol.
“Then why abandon us? Sol, why not take us too?”
“To save you from war, Mia,” said Sol, sadly. “He knew Elias. He knew what would follow.”
“So he dumped us on the Other Side.” I was starting to freak out again now that it was all sinking in. “And what about my mother? Is she alive? Is she from here? Pete told me she was in prison.”
Sol raised his hands, trying to calm me. “I think she’s alive,” he said. “But I’m not sure.”
“And Jay’s mom?”
“I don’t know, Mia.”
“But my father must,” I said. “He needs to know what’s happened to Jay!”
“He may already know.”
“Then why isn’t he doing something about it?”
A million thoughts tumbled through my mind. My grandmother in Des Moines. Who had she really been? Jay’s tattoo. Sol’s tattoo. Pete alone in Crownsville, whoever Pete was. And of course, the necklace.
“My father had the Solenetta,” I said. “He hid it with us.”
“It was safer out of this world than in.”
“Not anymore,” I replied, finally understanding that I was in Brakaland for a reason, as was Jay. “The Suzerain must have found out. That’s why the demons kidnapped those boys. They were after Jay. They thought he had the Solenetta. What will they do to him, Sol?”
“We don’t know,” he replied.
An unsettling feeling gripped me. “Then we have to hurry. The Suzerain will know he doesn’t have it by now. Or any of those boys. Sol, they’ll kill them!”
I clenched my hand into a fist and squeezed as hard as I could, needing that jolt of pain to bring me back to what was important: finding Jay and getting out of Brakaland. The great Bromasta Rheinhold, the Solenetta, the Suzerain—this world could keep them all. Jay and I had survived this long without them. I’d be damned if they were going to turn our lives upside down.
Except they had already turned our lives upside down. Because of them, Jay, a ten-year-old boy who played baseball and computer games and goofed around with Stacey Ann Baker, had been snatched. A boy who should have been home, not lost in another world.
“What if they’ve already killed him?” I said, unable to believe I’d uttered the words.
“Mia, nothing has happened in Orion to make us think that those boys are dead.”
I paused, seeing Sol in another light. “Us?” I asked. “Who are you? Why are you involved in this?”
“Mia, we’re fighting the Suzerain.”
“Like a resistance?”
“In some ways,” he replied. “We’re known as the Sons of the West. There are many of us in the towns and cities. We infiltrate Elias’s networks, but answer to the king. Everything we do is to stall the Suzerain’s plans, to protect the Barrier until he is removed from Brakaland forever.”
So Sol was a freedom fighter, an underground warrior. Hope soared. “Then you can get us into where they’re holding Jay.”
He sighed, looking anywhere but at me. “I don’t know if we can.”
“You have to! Sol, don’t tell me this is hopeless. Don’t tell me all of this and then step away. Jay’s all I’ve got!” Suddenly the great Bromasta Rheinhold, the Solenetta, and the Suzerain mattered a whole lot.
I’d thought if only I hadn’t broken into Old Man Crowley’s, or if I hadn’t asked Sol about the dream bird, or if I’d never sat with Andy on the Ridge and seen Sol’s tattoo, then none of this would have happened. I could have continued on oblivious, worrying about nothing more than what I’d wear to prom with Andy and who’d watch Jay when I was at work. But I knew those weren’t the things that had brought me here. “Here” had come for me and Jay. It had come for the Solenetta.
But what could I do? Mia Stone from Crownsville. Mia Rheinhold from Brakaland. I didn’t even know who I was anymore! Would I march into Orion and demand the bad guy give me back my brother? As soon as Malone’s gang put the Solenetta in the Suzerain’s hand, those kids were toast. What use were they once he had the stones he’d searched two worlds for? I was crying before I even knew I’d started. They were great gulping sobs a million times worse than when Willie and I called in pizza and watched old weepy movies like Titanic.
Concern on his face, Sol reached for me and I tumbled into his arms before I could stop myself. He felt like I’d imagined. Hard. Strong. Living proof that you could hold back the charge of fifty sentinels with a look more dangerous than any weapon or spell. If only he could show me how.
Sol wrapped his arms around me. What else could he do after I’d collapsed in his lap and with my head buried in his shoulder? With my face pressed against his warm neck, I tried to banish everything but him from this one moment. Maybe, for just a second, this didn’t exist. Sol could go back to being the new guy at school and we could be sitting in the woods by the Ridge. But I couldn’t hold the dream. We were in too deep for that.
“We don’t have to stay at the house,” he said, not letting go, his grip tighter than ever.
Right then? That was the least of my worries.
“No,” I said. “If you say it’s safe, then that’s where we should go.”
I pulled away, though I really didn’t want to. For some reason, being wrapped in Sol arms felt like the safest place to be. Mopping up tears, I tried a smile. “I’m usually more prepared than this. I carry tissues.”
He laughed and pulled me back to him, his hand stroking my hair. Heaven. “You don’t always have to be tough, Mia.”
“I’m not tough,” I said. “Ask Delane about the shadow imp. Not my finest moment.”
“You’ll get the next one.” He said it like he believed it. “And we will find Jay. I promise you, Mia.”
I realized then how Rip had felt when Sol had grasped his shoulders and told him that we’d make it through the valley. Because, right then, I believed Sol too.
“Am I interrupting?” Delane peered hesitantly from behind one of the trees. I untangled myself from Sol and together we got to our feet.
“He told you,” said Delane.
“Yep,” I replied, and shot a half smile at Sol. “He did.”
“And you’re okay?”
In Crownsville, okay was a relative term. Rusty’s crapped out again, but that’s okay. You get regular Coke when you ordered diet? Okay, too. But this?
“I’m fine,” I said, though really I wasn’t. “Can’t you tell?”
Delane smiled. He held out his hand. The red orb glowed on his palm. Just what we needed. “More demons?” I asked.
Sol draped his arm across my shoulder and led me back to the horses. “Welcome to Brakaland,” he said.
* * *
When we reached the valley floor, Rip, Crowley, and Bordertown seemed a dream within a dream I could no longer clearly remember. We chased the setting sun, every step taking me farther from Crownsville but closer to understanding my past. Whatever followed us stayed well back. Waiting for dark, no doubt.
The horses’ heads hung low. Burdened by two, mine in particular looked ready to drop. If we had anyone to thank for our escape, it was those guys.
A vast and beautiful land surrounded us. Forests grew on the valley slopes. A fast-flowing river coursed to our right. To the west stood a distant row of mountains, their caps golden beneath the rapidly sinking sun. How they could be there, when we were still so close to Crownsville, I could not explain. But there they were. And with snow on the peaks, too.
As beautiful and majestic as the land appeared, it was barren. There were no birds, no squirrels, or rabbits. There wasn’t even a gutterscamp. It was just grass, trees, rock, and t
he ever-present mist.
“There were once thriving towns here,” said Sol, as if catching my thoughts. “Narlow. Hamley Hold. All deserted now. Fortknee’s the only valley town where you’ll find people these days, but then Fortknee’s close to the valley’s edge. It’s easier to stem the tide of demons there.”
“What did the people here do?” I asked, thinking of my father, a warrior withdrawing to this remote spot.
“Many things,” said Sol. “Years ago, the Freemen signed a covenant with the king. Anything they made, grew, or found here was theirs. No taxes. No levies. It meant they were on their own. But that’s exactly how they wanted it.”
I tried to picture the place bustling with life. It was difficult. “How far to the house?”
“Not far,” said Sol. He glanced at the golden explosion above the mountains. “We should reach it before dark.”
Daylight faded to dusk, which lingered on and on as if to give us one last chance to reach safety. I was nervous, both about what horrors might still pursue us, and to see the place where I’d been born.
Signs that life had once thrived here appeared. Fence posts. Tumbledown cabins. Wagons abandoned on the overgrown, cobbled roadside. And then bones, in the grass and on the road. Some were large, as if from cattle or horses. Some were so twisted or overgrown that I couldn’t imagine what creatures they’d come from. And then there were the human bones. Femurs. Skulls. Left here like garbage on the side of the road.
The golden dusk faded to peach, pink, and then lavender. Distant shrieks—not human, not animal—carried from the forest and higher ground.
“That doesn’t sound good,” I said.
Sol agreed, if the look on his face was anything to go by. He scanned the forested slopes, then shot me a reassuring smile. “We’re almost there.”
The road veered left, and a narrow track emerged through the undergrowth. Weeds choked the broken-down fences. The trees thickened along the path. The track again turned, opening onto a huge clearing. There was a barn, a paddock, and a pond, all of it shrouded in the mist from the magic conjured long ago.
But it was the house that held my gaze. It was bigger than I’d expected, with two floors and a wraparound porch. Its dark wood was slightly bleached by the elements.
