The Cyrun

by Janilise Lloyd

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It felt too good to be true. It was what I’d been hoping for every minute since I got to know him.

  “That first night you took me back to the human realm—” I stopped, feeling shy.

  “Yes, I remember,” Trent smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My heart skipped a beat at his touch. “Go on.”

  I bit my lip. “Were you going to kiss me?”

  Trent chuckled. “Yes, I was trying to kiss you. But you pulled away from me?” He finished it as a question. “I guess that leads me to ask, do you have any feelings for me? Sometimes it seems like you might. Other times it feels like I’m just hoping you do.” He dropped his eyes.

  I was nervous. I had never tried to tell anyone I had feelings for them—well, except that one kid, Skyler, in like 2nd grade through a note, so I don’t think that counts.

  “Yes,” I exhaled. “I have feelings for you too—more and more every day, actually,” I smiled crookedly. “And it has been really suckish to watch you with another girl who has supermodel powers, by the way.”

  Trent was beaming. “Really? Then why did you pull away that night?”

  “You had a girlfriend, and I barely knew you. I’m not the kind of girl who goes around kissing any random guy I find attractive, you know. The better question is, why didn’t you ever try again if you’ve liked me all this time?”

  Trent considered as his thumb drew patterns on the back of my hand. The simple gesture gave me goose bumps. “I’m not completely sure, but I think it comes down to two things: I felt guilty about my feelings for you because of Meraki and even guiltier I’d acted on them without properly ending things with her first. Second, you flat out rejected me,” he laughed, “so I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of putting myself out there again until I was more certain how you felt.”

  “Makes sense,” I said happily.

  I was unsure where we went from here. Trent seemed to be thinking something similar. His eyes flashed back and forth from my eyes to my lips. My heartbeat accelerated. He was thinking about kissing me again. Was I ready? I don’t think I’m ready! He moved in closer, his eyes closing.

  I put my fingers to his lips, stopping him. His eyes opened, confused. “Can we just… wait?” I asked. “It doesn’t feel like the right time. It seems like something we’re supposed to do because we just talked about our first botched attempt. I want to wait until it feels like something we want to do. You know, when the moment’s right.”

  Trent laughed and shook his head slightly, moving back. “Whatever you say, Ava, but just so you know, kissing you always feels like something I want to do.” He winked. The butterflies in my stomach intensified.

  We spent another half hour or so in our tree, enjoying the clear night, the stars above, and our newly declared feelings before going back to headquarters. Though my day had started horribly and I still felt sick whenever I thought of my dad, my heart was on cloud nine.

  Chapter 22

  Brothers

  Trent walked me back to my room later that night, pausing as we reached the door. “Thanks for tonight,” I said. “It really helped clear my head after the bad morning I had.”

  Trent smiled. “I’m glad. Sleep well tonight, Ava. I’ll see you in the morning.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I nearly collapsed on the spot.

  Before I was coherent enough to gasp, “Goodnight!” at Trent’s retreating figure, he was likely out of earshot.

  Sleeping was not an option—I was way too wound up. Instead, I sat cross-legged on my little mattress and tried to process the day. I could hardly believe how happy Trent had made me tonight, but I still felt a cloud of despair whenever I thought of my dad.

  With that in mind, I reached over to my duffle bag, which was on the wooden chair, and dragged it over until it sat in front of my mattress. I opened the front pocket where I’d stashed my uncle’s pocketknife and the note intended for him. I pulled the letter out first. An overwhelming desire to open the note overcame me. Perhaps it would provide some answers to my father’s secrets. I very nearly tore into the envelope, but shoved it back in the pocket instead, choosing to obey my dad’s wishes.

  I fished for the pocketknife—pulling it out to examine the beautiful craftsmanship of the handle—when a vision overcame me. I welcomed it, hoping it might give some answers.

  I was first met by a horrifying scene. I found myself in a thick part of the forest. A teenage version of my father lay on the ground close by, a ferocious animal at his feet, looming over him. The creature looked like a large wolf, yet there was something distinctly feline in its shape and hypnotic movements. Its fur was coarse and black. Its green eyes gleamed over exposed, yellowed teeth. The creature snarled and lunged at my dad, who rolled over swiftly, the beast missing his side by inches.

  “Carmichael!” a voice called from the distance. I turned to see a slightly older boy, probably about seventeen, sprinting toward the beast. As he drew closer, he thrust out his palm, where a green light shot forward, hitting the beast in its side. The creature yelped in pain and stumbled sideways. The boy closed the distance between himself and Mike, kneeling at his side. “Michael, are you okay?”

  Mike began to sit up, wincing as he did. He brought his right arm across his body to show the older boy. He drew in a sharp gasp—Mike’s arm was gouged and bloody. “We need to get you home!”

  The creature—recovering from whatever attack had been made against it—crawled toward the boys, its ugly head bowed low, baring its teeth.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, the older boy thrust out both palms, pushing forward green patches of light, which stunned the beast in quick succession. With every strike, the creature cowered in pain, retreating, until it finally turned completely and sprinted away.

  “Thanks, Will,” Mike grunted. “I thought I could control it. Guess I was wrong.”

  Will shook his head. “You have got to stop experimenting with your powers like this. Magical creatures are not the same as regular animals.” Will extended his hand out to Mike, helping him to his feet.

  “Good thing you’re always around to save me,” Mike smiled weakly.

  “I suppose that’s what brothers are for.” Will gave Mike a smile of comradery, then supported him as they hobbled off together.

  The memory faded and reformed. I stood in a dingy pub with wooden tables and dim lights. A fire in a large fireplace burned at one end of the wide room. My dad, with his head in his hands, sat at a small table next to the fire. Will sat across from him. Two large, empty mugs sat in front of the pair of brothers. I hurried over to their sides.

  “What do you mean she left you? Rose loves you! She would never do that,” Will exclaimed.

  “She’s gone, Will, for good. ‘S nothing I could do or say to make her stay.” Mike’s words were slurred and his eyes were unfocused as he painfully lifted his neck to look at his brother. How odd, I’d never seen him drink in the human realm—not even a beer. He told me alcohol didn’t sit well with him. I could see, now, that was very true.

  “I’m sorry, brother. Did she say why?”

  “—nuther guy. She’s gonna marry another guy,” Mike winced as the words came out. His upper body slumped across the table as he fell over.

  “Come on, now, Mike. This isn’t like you. If you love her, fight for her! Don’t sit in this grimy old pub drinking your sorrows away. You’re a better man than that.”

  “It’s useless. ‘S too late. She’s gone,” Mike mumbled without attempting to lift his head.

  Will leaned back, sucking in a sharp breath as he clasped his hands behind his head. “What’s useless is trying to talk to you in this state, but I need to, Michael. I’ve got something important to tell you.” Will reached for a side pocket in the leather jacket he wore and pulled out a scroll. He unrolled the parchment to show his brother. “I’ve been summoned to guard the palace, Mike.” Will’s eyes were alight with excitement. “Can you believe it? King Trinnen
has heard about my abilities and wants me to join his ranks.”

  Mike’s head flew off the table, his expression angry. He seemed more attentive in that moment than he had the entire length of the conversation. “No!” He slammed his fist on the table “You can’t go, Will. The king is a wicked man. He’s not worth protecting!” Mike jumped to his feet in anger.

  At Mike’s behavior, many people in the bar turned their heads and fell silent, watching.

  Will stood and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. He pushed him back down in his seat. Mike staggered and then sat, caving under the pressure from Will. “Quiet, Michael. It is not wise to speak ill of the king so openly. King Trinnen does what is necessary to keep the people of Cyrus safe. I will go and fulfill my responsibilities to our kingdom.”

  “You’re a fool, Will. You’re jus’ another pawn in his game. He’s evil! Vile!—”

  “Mike, please,” Will glanced around self-consciously at the angry stares the brothers were receiving. “Control yourself. I’m going to take my place as I should. Before I go, though, I want you to have this.” Will pulled out the pocketknife I now had from his jeans and offered it to Mike. Mike stared at the object with disgust before he knocked Will’s hand, sending the knife flying.

  “I don’ wan’ your stupid knife. Have a nice life, brother.” Mike struggled to his feet and stumbled through the crowds to the door. He threw it open and staggered out into the brisk air.

  Will stood and picked up the knife from the floor. “Sorry for my brother’s behavior,” he declared loudly to the pub. “Forgive him, he’s not thinking straight. He’s suffering from a broken heart.” Will crossed the length of the room in a few longs strides, then followed after his brother.

  The memory retreated, morphing into a new one that was nearly unbearable to witness. I stood in a musty smelling dungeon. Hay and rat feces were strewn about the floor. My father was chained to a post and knelt on his knees. The shirt on his back was ripped to shreds, and his back was bleeding profusely. Behind him, Will—dressed in a royal guard’s uniform—held a lethal whip in his hands. Tears poured down Will’s face as he raised the whip with trembling arms and brought it down on his brother’s back. Mike cried out in agony so intense I thought my heart would stop then and there. Never before had I understood the meaning of a broken heart. I was gaining a painfully complete understanding here, in this wretched moment from the past.

  Will hesitated, obviously fighting an internal battle that raged with force, the tears pouring down his face at an alarming rate. I was reminded of what my father said yesterday—that the people of Cyrus were fighting a battle of will every day.

  “I said 30 lashes, Officer Longfellow. You still have five to go. Get them done. Now!” I turned to see a man dressed in black with a red velvet cape hung around his shoulders. His resemblance to Tenebris was nearly identical, with the exception of a brown goatee and slightly lighter hair color. I knew immediately that I was looking into the cold face of King Trinnen, Tenebris’ older brother. Around his neck hung Praesidium, which glowed a vibrant red at his most recent command.

  Behind me, I heard another crack of the whip. I didn’t dare turn around—the sound from my father was already too much to bear. Instead, I watched King Trinnen’s lips turn up in pleasure at my father’s pain. I lunged at the awful man, desperate for some sort of revenge. I flew right through him, of course, falling to the floor, unable to cause harm in a memory.

  I remained crumpled on the floor, covering my ears and squeezing my eyes shut, trying to block out the horror taking place in front of me. It was no use. The whip was too loud, the cries from my dad piercing. I felt every blow twist my heart and cause my stomach to heave.

  Finally, mercifully, the last crack of the whip rent the air. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and turned to face my father. He was slumped over, unmoving. Will dropped the whip, sending it clattering to the ground as he fell to his knees. He sobbed into his hands.

  “I’m sorry, brother,” Will’s voice said feebly through his tears. “So sorry.”

  “Silence!” King Trinnen cut across Will’s apology. “Untie the criminal and bring him to face me.”

  Will stumbled forward on his feet. With shaking hands, he loosened his brother’s ties and, as gently as he could manage, helped Mike to his feet. As Mike turned to face the king, his face was ashen and his breathing labored.

  King Trinnen’s face broke into a wicked grin. “Now, Carmichael Ross Longfellow of Cashmere, I hereby sentence you to banishment from Cyrus. You are to spend the rest of your days in the human realm. You are forbidden to ever enter this realm again.” As he said it, Praesidium glowed more vibrantly than I had ever seen it. With the weight of Trinnen’s commands, Mike slumped forward and bowed his head. Silent tears ran down his face.

  King Trinnen stepped closer to Michael, then slapped him across the face. “I will be back in a few minutes with a Traveler who will take you to the human realm. Officer Longfellow, lock him up in one of the cells, then depart for your assigned post immediately. No wasting time on your sweet goodbyes.” King Trinnen’s eyes gleamed malevolently as he swept past the pair of brothers to a door at the end of the dungeons.

  The horrific scene ended and was replaced by new surroundings. I stood in an ornate white and gold room—the very opposite of the place I’d just been. The walls were adorned with golden pillars, which were carved with intricate patterns and large stretches of marble. The floor was also marble with a long, thin expanse of red carpet that ran from the wide doors at one end of the room to a large podium. Two majestic thrones sat atop it, one slightly larger than the other, with another gold door behind the pair of seats. On the two thrones were King Tenebris—dressed in a purple uniform adorned with several medals—and the queen, who wore a simple yet elegant blue gown. Her golden hair moved in large ringlets down one shoulder. Her face was strikingly beautiful, though she wore heavy makeup that I personally felt detracted from her natural beauty. The pair of royals sat silently and watched the large set of doors on the other side of the room.

  At that moment, the doors opened. Two guards in red uniforms stepped through, with a man dressed in a white uniform behind them. The guards in front stepped aside while the one in white continued forward. As he drew closer, I recognized him as an older, more wrinkled Will.

  Will approached the base of the podium and bowed.

  “Thank you. You may rise,” Tenebris said without emotion.

  “Your Majesty,” Will rose to his feet. “I come to you today with a request. My daughter is ill—severely so. I fear she doesn’t have much more time to live. I have served you faithfully for many years and your brother Trinnen before you. I have dedicated nearly 20 years to this kingdom. Now, I request your permission to be relieved of my duties so that I may return to my home and family to spend the remainder of my daughter’s days by her side.” Again, Will bowed humbly.

  Tenebris watched Will thoughtfully. The queen’s hand covered her heart. She looked at Tenebris with pleading eyes. “Let him go. Please,” she whispered.

  Tenebris considered the queen carefully, then turned his attention back to Will. “Very well. You shall be missed, Commander Longfellow. You have served this kingdom honorably and have certainly been one of my most loyal officers. I regret your departure, but see that you have made up your mind on the matter. You are hereby relieved of your duties as a palace guard. Please don't be a stranger. You and your family are welcome back any time.” The king’s lips twitched in what I imagine could pass as a faint smile.

  Will’s smile, on the other hand, was radiant. “Thank you, your Majesty. I truly appreciate your understanding. I will pack my bags and be gone by nightfall.” Will bowed once more before walking briskly back down the red carpet to the doors, a definite spring in his step.

  The scene disappeared and reformed. I stood in a dark alley. The weather was cold and the street was wet. A few paces to my right, a hooded figure stood, peeking around the edge of a brick buildin
g in the direction of a large centaur statue. I walked forward to see the person’s face, but was interrupted by a voice behind my back.

  “Good evening, Mr. Longfellow.” Startled, I spun around and was met by a young face. A second figure stood in the alley, though I was certain he hadn’t been there a moment before. His face was obscured, partially, by the hood of his red jacket, but I could tell that he was young—probably 15 or so. He wore red sneakers, jeans, and a confident smile.

  The hooded figure also turned to face the newcomer. Under the hood, I recognized Will’s face once more. He rushed forward to stand in front of the boy. “Hello. Are you Fox Springs? The Traveler?”

  The boy smirked. “Depends who’s asking and why. As I understand it, you were once a palace guard. I hardly think confessing to be an unregistered Traveler would be a wise move, considering.” The boy leaned back against the brick wall of the building, seeming unfazed.

  Will’s voice was frantic. “I was a palace guard, yes, but I haven’t been for weeks now. I need a favor, that’s all. My brother was sent to the human realm many years ago. I simply want you to give him this knife,” Will held out the carved pocketknife, “and this note.” He shoved the two objects toward the boy who eyed them skeptically and made no move to take them.

  “If I were able to do what you were asking, I’d need some sort of payment as an incentive. Surely you understand.”

  “Yes, of course. You want money? I’ve got money.” Will scrambled in his inside jacket pockets and pulled out a pouch. “There are fifty gold pieces in here. They’re all yours if you can help me.”